Darkness of Magic (Soul of Magic Book 2)

EIGHT

Immediately Engerd walked into the room, he saw the wizards all tense up. And truth be told, he was just as tensed as they were; and maybe a little confused too.

Engerd had been an Anti-magician for a very long time; rumour even had it that he was the perhaps the longest serving anti-magician to have ever walked the realm. Of course, at just thirty-five years of age, with cute brown hair, an heavily muscled body, and a face that didn’t seem to have weathered any storm, that rumour was just hard to believe.

But it was true. Thing is, Engerd had discovered Anti-magic at a very young; in fact, he was just seven years old at the time. The son of a miner, he loved following his father into the treacherous pass of the Mountains region from gold was hewn and transported out to the great kingdoms from where it was refined, a large portion stored in the king’s vault, and the rest of it transported to the smaller established human states for even more wealth that would end up being locked up in the vault alongside the original portion of the hewn gold. People like his father were the ones who worked while the great kingdom reaped the benefits; but Engerd didn’t care then.

It was on one of these mining activities that Engerd discovered a Bloodstone lying discarded in the middle of the rubble. It called to him and he knew that both it and him were special. Now, not many people knew it but a Bloodstone was as much a wielder of an Anti-magician as an Anti-magician a wielder of a Bloodstone. They augmented and completed one another, just like a wizard and his magic; and that was exactly what Engerd thought he had discovered.

However, when Nicolas the Vanquisher started the great conflict and the wizards were scattered all over the realm, Engerd realized whom he really was; an Anti-magician. He had the power to take away the powers of those who were the agents of darkness and he did; and of course, made quite the profit on it too.

By the time the great conflict ended, Engerd had become so used to the ways of a Bloodstone that when the Anti-magicians revealed themselves, that knowledge and experience quickly earned him a place of honour among them. He was the Lord of the Anti-magicians throughout the realm. No magic got inhibited, stolen, or sold without his say so; and his influence could increase with every one that was.

But what had actually brought Engerd into the midst of the wizards wasn’t Anti-magic business but a letter that had been sent to him some days earlier, by a wizard nonetheless. Of course, he had a lot of experience dealing with wizards of different calibre over the course of the months; they always tried to kill him but failed. In fact, he had so many mementos collected from the encounters that he could easily write a grimoire if he wanted.

But this wizard wasn’t like any other he’d dealt with, of that Engerd was sure. None of others had ever had the audacity to summon him into their presence like this particular one had; and that intrigued him.

"Is Sylvestron in?" he asked when he had made his way to the centre of the room; a deliberate move in order to keep all the wizards in his sight and fairly divided around him.

"That is Master Sylvestron to you, Anti-magician," returned one of the wizards; a teenage who would have been quite intimidating if he wasn’t shaking as he spoke.

And that fear was a mistake. Before the wizard knew what was happening, Engerd rushed and grabbed him, pulling back to the centre to the room where he originally stood. The Anti-magician swept the legs out from under and the wizard landed with a satisfying thud. Engerd pulled out a Bloodstone-bladed sword and leveled it at his throat. "Listen to me, boy," he said, his voice low and threatening. "Sylvestron may be your lord and master but he isn't mine. And the next time you dare speak to me like that, I'll make sure you-"

"There is no need for threats, Engerd," a voice suddenly cut in. "We're all friends here".

Engerd turned and came face to face with the wizard who had behaved like no other he had ever met; Sylvestron the Dark. Sylvestron was an old man of about eighty years of age, bald but having a thick long white beard. He was tall but still very straight for a man of his age, his facial features showing that he must have been very handsome in his youth days. But as pleasing as he was to the eyes, Sylvestron’s own eyes not. They were black like midnight, filled with so much dark magic that it was as if they sucking in all the lights from the room. In truth, the dark wizard was a man whose presence commanded respect, and a whole lot of fright too; as Engerd himself soon learnt when a shudder involuntarily passed through him at the sight.

Thing is, the Anti-magician had heard so many tales about the wizard named Sylvestron; many of which stated that he was as old as the realm itself. They said that he was one of the very men who first discovered magic in the realm, and maybe the first who was able to properly wield it too. Of course, Engerd had no doubt that majority of stories were just a bunch of hearsays and exaggerations put together by sycophants and fearful humans; but he had to agree that even a quick glance at the man was enough to tell someone that he was a very powerful dark wizard.

Anyway, the Anti-magician controlled the apprehension that raged within him and found himself a seat; a gesture to show the other man that he was as in charge of things as he was, at least in the physical sense of it. “Why don't you send out your wizards and we can have that chat that you obviously called me here to have?" he said, picking up an apple and eating it as he waited for the wizard's response.

If Sylvestron was offended by Engerd's behaviour, he didn't show it. Instead, he turned to the other wizards and said, "Please leave us, the gentleman and I have an important business to discuss."

The wizards knew better than to argue and they all filed out silently. Engerd was an Anti-magician they didn’t want to face and their master could very well take care of himself. Besides, it was the wizard who had reached out to the Anti-magician in the first place and the latter would definitely want to hear what the other had to say before acting, out of curiosity if nothing else.

"So, why did you ask me to come here?" Engerd asked when the last of the wizards had gone out.

"I have a small matter that need to be attended to urgently, Engerd," Sylvestron replied, pacing up and down the room in a rhythmic manner that the other man knew was not out of nervousness but just an habit of his. "It's something I know you'll be deeply interested in too."

Engerd couldn't help but laugh at Sylvestron's words. "Interested in?" he repeated as if the words were foreign to him. "What makes you think that you know what “interests” me, Sylvestron? You and I aren't even on the same side of life."

"Perhaps, I don’t," the dark wizard replied with all genuineness. "But I was hoping I can still hire your services all the same."

"Twenty bags of gold," Engerd quickly laid his offer down on the table.

A surprised look came to Sylvestron's face as he heard the price; the Anti-magician was being unreasonably exorbitant just to put him off, he knew. But the dark wizard was prepared. "You're quite an expensive man, Engerd," he said, a smile coming on to his face. "Which doesn't surprise me in the least, believe me. A man of your talent and level can’t afford to sell himself short. However, what my plan reaps is much greater than money.”

And this great plan of yours is what exactly?" Engerd looked Sylvestron in the eyes to show that he was in no mood for cryptic words or mind games.

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you everything about it now," the dark wizard replied, giving the Anti-magician a look asking for understanding. "But agree to give me your services and I can guarantee you the greatest of powers to have existed in this realm. The soul of magic itself."