Prophecy’s Queen

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The trip from Drianna's cottage to the valley where the Wizard Posh had built his tower would have taken the sorceress nearly three weeks if she had not traveled by the Wizard Ways. Though she was not an expert in The Ways, she knew the requirements for navigation in the tunnels below the earth. Without the proper spells and runes, the entrance to The Ways appeared to be a smooth wall of stone amid some ancient ruins.

The Ways were once used by the Nordae-Grandia to travel great distances in very short periods of time. This helped them in their role as peacekeepers throughout the land. Many passages were destroyed in The Breaking, but those that were still working could be used by mages who knew the correct runes.

The challenge of traveling The Ways was compounded by the fact that at each junction the direction you took the last time might not take you to the same place this time. You needed to draw the rune that represented your destination, speak the Words of Travel, and then follow the rune to your desired goal. Travel time between two points was nearly constant despite the distance, which never ceased to amaze the sorceress.

There was an entrance to The Ways near the sorceress' small cottage. She had built her home in the deep woods above the village of Caergana on the northeastern edge of Lake Estonan. She interacted very little with the villagers, though some sought her out for healing and simple magical aids. Though the Church considered the practice of magic blasphemous, they had no real power to control what the sorceress did. She kept mostly to herself so there were no issues. The people were more practical when they needed her, though many called her a witch and felt threatened by her presence when they were not seeking her help.

Emerging from The Ways into a valley deep in the mountainous area knows as the Dragon's Teeth, Drianna surveyed her surroundings. The Wizard Posh was a recluse by choice, and though he protected his valley with wards and other magical devices, she would easily bypass his security and walk the short distance to the tower.

"Mylan, it is good to see you looking so healthy," Drianna greeted the single servant that Posh kept. He was human, long lived for one of his species, and the sorceress suspected that Posh was experimenting on his manservant with longevity spells. The wizard himself was more than a thousand years old. Mylan's family served him for much of that time, though Mylan was the last of his line.

"Drianna, it is always a pleasure to see you," the old servant said, smiling as he rose from tending a small vegetable garden at the base of the tower. "What brings the Gaerwitch to see my Master on this fine day?"

The sorceress embraced Mylan, and then taking his arm in hers, she led him to the tower door. "I have need of your Master's assistance with a couple of challenging spells."

"You think he will help you after the last time?" Mylan asked, pushing the door open and letting the lady enter ahead of him.

"I have something to bargain with this time," Drianna replied, smiling, "and I think Posh will be more than happy to help when he sees what I have to offer in return."

Mylan laughed as the two climbed the stairs to the main rooms in the tower. "You two make quite a pair, Drianna. If you would spend more time around my Master, I think the two of you might actually become close friends."

The sorceress laughed lightly before replying, "You know Posh and I could never be together in that way. His love of Bethany will keep him from being with any other woman until his last breath."

"I do know that," Mylan said solemnly. "He thinks of little else these days, I'm afraid. His obsession with bringing her back has completely taken control of his life."

"I know, and though I wish there was something I could do to ease his burden, it is one he alone must bear."

The two emerged from the stairs into a large semicircular study where the Wizard Posh sat behind a large desk covered in scrolls and books of all shapes and sizes. His jet-black hair was unkempt as usual. It appeared he had not slept in days.

"You have a visitor, Master," Mylan announced.

"Go away!" the wizard barked without looking up. "I will see no one today!"

"You will see me, you grumpy old buzzard!" Drianna barked back.

"Drianna, you old Witch!" Posh yelled across the room. "You dare come back here after the way your last visit ended?"

When Drianna had last visited the wizard, she had sought his advice on several magical issues, and in his haste to get rid of her, he managed to cast a particularly nasty variation of a spell that triggered a Vision Rage. These fits were extremely dangerous and could kill anyone close to the wizard when one took him. An uncontrollable Vision Rage had resulted in the death of Bethany and the total destruction of the city of Barren Tor on the coast of the Arithe Ocean. These rages were why Posh lived alone in this isolated valley. The tower's protective magic channeled the destructive power of his rages into the surrounding mountains until they played themselves out.

"I have something to bargain with, Posh," Drianna stated, standing her ground. "Something that you will want very badly."

"There is nothing you can offer me of your Wiccan magic that I cannot already match or exceed with my own," Posh said without looking up. "I say again. I am accepting no visitors. Good day, Drianna!"

"You will want to read this, Posh," Drianna said quietly, holding out a yellowed scroll bound with a new green and red ribbon.

"And what is that?" Posh looked across the great desk. "I have plenty of scrolls and books already as you might have noticed."

"Not like this one," Drianna replied. She stepped up to the desk and handed the scroll across to the wizard. "Just one thing before you open it," she continued. "If you wish to keep that scroll, you will help me with the spells I came here to speak with you about."

"I cannot imagine you have anything that I would find valuable”—Posh accepted the scroll, its aged parchment flaking ever so slightly in his hands—“however I give you my word."

The wizard carefully opened the scroll and started reading. His mouth fell open, and he looked up at Drianna before turning back to the words without speaking. Pushing aside several books on his desk and knocking several more to the floor, he stood and bent over the scroll, gently unrolling more and more of it on his desk.

"Do you know what this is?" He gasped at last, looking up at the sorceress with wide eyes.

"I do," she replied.

"No, I mean do you really know what this is or do you just guess?"

"I know, old man," she said calmly. "Though I could not read most of it, as the language is ancient, and it was dead long before I was born. I was able to determine it is a treatise on the resurrection of the dead, written by one of the Nordae-Grandia at a time before the creation of humans. It references only Elves and Dwarves as the lesser races, so I suspect it pre-dates even the Lesser Wizards."

"I can read only a fraction of the text," Posh said quickly, "but I have volumes that have been translated from this form that I will be able to use as cross-reference material to translate this document as well. It is as you say, or appears to be, at any rate. It may take years of study to understand the finer points."

Posh was lost in the scroll now, and Drianna let him wander deeper into its possibilities before interrupting him.

"My price, Wizard," she said at last.

"Yes, yes," Posh replied, looking up impatiently. "What minor spells are you struggling with where you need my help?"

"I have a few things I need your help with, and you must give me your complete attention and apply your full talent to the effort. Not like the last time."

She held out her hand in an obvious attempt to take back her scroll; however, Posh left it where it lay and walked around the desk instead. He stood face to face with the sorceress.

"What you have brought me may be the key to a lifetime of effort.” He looked deeply into her eyes. "There is nothing I would not grant you for this boon."

"As I hoped," she said, smiling. "Let us go over what I need and get to work right away. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can get to work translating those writings."

It took the two mages most of the next three weeks to put together the necessary spells. The runes and the words of power needed were complex and required them to push themselves beyond their normal limits. The spells wove Wiccan and Wizard magic together in subtle ways that were likely never before attempted.

Both of them were exhausted when the task was complete, but Drianna was satisfied that she now had what she needed and could leave the wizard in peace.

"Thank you, Posh," she said as she embraced him outside his tower. He smelled of musk and sweat, which quickened Drianna’s heart. Though the two were never going to be openly close, the residue of the magic they worked with for the last three weeks was still strong and nearly prevented her from leaving.

"These spells cannot be reversed," Posh repeated for the hundredth time. "Be very sure when you cast them that you are ready for the consequences."

"That is the intent," Drianna replied, still holding the wizard's hand in her own.

"Please do not come back here again," Posh choked on the words, the tears welling up in his eyes.

"I understand, and I will leave you alone," the sorceress replied. "You will realize someday the importance of what we have done, but for now, just accept my thanks."

"The price you paid is worth more to me than anything.” He absently rubbed the locket he wore around his neck. "This may indeed be the key to bringing back my Bethany."

"Good luck to you, Posh," Drianna said quietly. She released his hand and walked down the valley to the Way Gate entrance, her own eyes filling with tears and her sobbing nearly uncontrollable.