A Sorceress From the Future

Chapter Fifty Eight

“This is…my gods, whatever are we going to do?”

The three remaining members of the Ninth Order stood before Baric’s limp body. They all examined it, carefully scrutinizing the effects of the spell. The sight was appalling, but the human prince’s physical appearance was nothing compared to his death's repercussions. There was no doubt about it; the humans had waged war against the mages. News regarding the prince’s death had traveled fast. The three mages reckoned they had until dawn to prepare their kind for what was predicted to be an apocalypse.

“We need Tamara…we have to find a way of reviving her…we are nothing without a leader…”

Daniel shot a glance at the mage responsible for those words. He held his tongue. Now was not the time to aggravate the only members of the Ninth Order who were present. Daniel needed every mage alive. If he was ever going to lead his kind to victory, he was going to embrace the art of patience. But had he not be patient all this time? Had he not patiently waited in the shadows as his wife led the magical realm? Had he not patiently waited as the foolish, greedy human executed his plans? Had he not waited until he could finally take over the throne? Daniel was tire of being patient.

“As her husband, it is within my right to lead our kind, and with the war upon us, I suggest we blare the horn and prepare every mage within the realm for war…”

“Is there no way to avoid this? A parley perhaps?”

“You want to parley with that weak species?”

“Weak? Is that how you see them? The gods granted them potency when they gave them the vessel. I do not know about you, but I do not wish to face the wrath of humans…”

Daniel grinded his teeth before turning away from the two mages. His crow had yet to return with news from Martha. It was her duty to deliver the location of the vessel so that Daniel could send some mages to retrieve it or rather destroy it. But Martha had vanished from the face of the earth, or she was in hiding. What else could explain the delay of the crow? Could she be dead? If she was, then she was weaker than he had presumed her to be. Daniel needed to formulate another plan, a plan that would ensure his kind emerged victorious. A plan that would make his predessors proud.

“Daniel? Are you listening to me? We need to parley with the humans!”

The mage was a genius. That was it. Daniel needed to delay the war or at least cause a big enough distraction to take away the human’s attention from the location of the vessel. A parley would do. Wouldn’t the foolish, greedy human be suspicious? Daniel chuckled amusedly. The human had a pea for a brain.

“Very well, we will parley with the humans. Perhaps we will be able to reach an agreement that draws little blood-“

“Or no blood…”

For a while, silence befell the chamber. Daniel refrained from showcasing his sincere feelings. He had no intention of forging peace with the humans. It was time magical creatures took back what was theirs. Prophecy or no prophecy, magical creatures would once again rule the earth.

“I will leave you two to arrange what will happen in the event that the parley does not bear any fruit…”

Daniel whirled around to leave, his dark cloak sweeping the floor noiselessly. When he reached the door of the chamber, he halted to listen to the whispers of the two mages.

“We are doomed to fail without Tamara…”

Once again, Daniel found himself suppressing his desires. He craved to see the mage’s life fleeting from him. He craved to instill pain in him. He craved to kill him. Daniel twisted the knob and swung the door open; he had a parley to arrange.

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“I was surprised to see wisps of fog around the corners of my room…”

Dawson was seated in the safety of his chambers, holding a small mirror in his hand. The reflection in the mirror was that of Daniel’s, and as usual, his face was etched with callousness. Dawson had debated whether to summon his guards or not once he spotted wisps of mist beginning to crawl on the floor of his room. He had decided against it, afraid that he would be associated with magic. He could not risk his position, especially now that he had officially declared war against magical creatures. Finally, he would be able to avenge the loss of his family to those vile beings.

“I would like to meet you in an open field…”

Dawson let out a disturbing cackle, Daniel did not flinch.

“We are going to war, no parley will stop that…One of our own died at your hands…”

“Are you going to pretend that you cared for the human prince? Did you not suggest his abduction in the first place? Did you not light up in glee when I informed you of the spell I had cast on him?”

“Well, it is not I who will wield a sword against you, it is my men, and they are driven by grief. They mourn for both princes, they wish to see your kind annihilated…they are tired of living in bondage…”

“I do not know why you think you have a choice, human…You will meet me in a clearing within the woods at dawn, and you will listen to my terms or-“

“Or what? What is it do you think you have against me? We have the one thing that can destroy your kind…I hold the upper-“

He had felt it before. The feeling of his soul being brutally separated from his body. He was finding it difficult to breathe, his eyes spotted the crawling mist intensifying.

“Will you meet me now human?”

Dawson bobbed his head with much difficulty. Soon he was panting rigorously, trickles of sweat meandering down his face.

“See you at dawn, human…”

The mist vanished from Dawson's royal chambers. His breath was still ragged; his heart was still pounding frantically against his chest. Once again the creature had forced his hand. Despite his regal status, Dawson was still weak. Now he was more angry than afraid. He stood up and headed towards a table, and overturned it. He watched as the contents on the table flew from their haven and scattered on the floor. He then proceeded to one of his chest drawers and pulled out his vessel draped sword. Dawson wielded the weapon expertly. It had been a long time since he felt a sword in his hands.

There would be no parley. Dawson could not harm the creature through a mirror, but he could cause him immense pain at close quarters, a clearing in the woods perhaps. A sadistic smile appeared on Dawson’s face. So far, he had managed to sit on Chi’s throne, driven Luke away, tamed the Captain, killed the king, hang a council elder, and plan a war; if that creature deemed him weak, then he was gravely mistaken.

Prophecy or no prophecy, Dawson would not rest until he was the sole ruler roaming the earth. Only then would he have restored his family’s name.

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A man with a sliced tongue stood rooted on the ground outside the king’s chamber. He had heard everything that had transpired within the room, he had heard the appalling conversation between Chi’s king and what appeared to be a leader among magical creatures. He had also heard about the role Chi’s new king had played in starting this war. The king had summoned him earlier, probably to be a source of entertainment as usual. At first, he had been scared, but now, now he was shocked. The man with a sliced tongue stiffly turned around and headed to the dungeon. He had to find a way to warn the Captain, a way to tell him that their king had set everything that was happening in motion.