Forgotten Embers

Chapter 15: Blackridge

The interior halls of the castle complex were vast with high arched ceilings. Again, a mixture of maurium and stone accents provided the opportunity for some artistic variation. The ornate stone work and marvel floors along with the decorative metal mesh which was found throughout the halls left the feeling somewhere between a medieval cathedral and a modern courthouse. The maurium was a centerpiece, from the luminescent purple cracks in the gray marble to the glow of the purple lamps, orbs of light hanging from the ceiling and ensconced like torches on the wall, to the small, carefully crafted gems which lined the halls, all was to show the prominence, power, and versatility of the fine material native only to Altruon.

As they led her down the corridors, various officials could be seen going here or there about their business and foreign dignitaries walked about with King Zephyr's trusted escorts assigned to their care. There was a certain tension in High Palace. Even here inside the walls, no one seemed quite relaxed and nothing seemed real. Some courts were in session while others were preparing to be, and certain Pyrean citizens were found waiting on benches in the hall for their case to be called, while other proceedings may be heard quietly seeping through the doors of the chambers.

Avera walked in curious silence, wondering where exactly they were headed and why they had gone without hesitation passed the courts, but she was too afraid to ask the guards.

They continued down the hall, down past the scattered gatherings and quiet conversations until the sound of the guards' boots became the only sound in the desolate corridors.

They came near the end of the hall and turned off into an adjacent corridor, different from the others. There were noticeable changes to the design and the size of the hall. The lighting was less, and the floor changed from marvel to squares of stone with light maurium and diamond accents. It was arranged so that each stone flat had pieces of maurium in a diamond design surrounding the center and an ornately chiseled piece of luminescent maurium at its center. Apart from this, there was no lighting in the hall.

They passed doors to the left and to the right of them which seemed to blend into the blackened walls. As they came to pass another corridor, a man dressed in a dark cloak appeared suddenly in front of them, seemingly out of the black.

The startled guards stopped dead in their tracks. Avera flinched and would have jumped back had she been able to do so, but the guards still kept firm hold on each of her arms.

"Lord Blackridge," said the one guard who spoke, his voice trembling. He was noticeably shaking.

"Calvin," he said, acknowledging the man. "Lucio," he added, nodding to the other.

"Sir," said the second guard, who had not spoken before that time. He sounded younger than his partner and his voice was firm and even.

Avera glanced at the guard the man they called Blackridge had addressed as Lucio. He was a dark skinned man with blackened eyes and the beginnings of a beard around his chin. He appeared to be only a few years older than she was, and she wondered how a man so young could become so unfeeling as she looked upon the vacant expression of his emotionless countenance, his eyes unreadable.

"I'll take it from here," Blackridge told them. His voice was deep, mysterious, authoritative, and unwavering. His words left no room for questioning, but he must have noticed their hesitance. "This hearing is closed chambers," he informed them by way of explanation.

"Yes, Master Blackridge," Calvin said. The two guards released her immediately, bowing each on bended knee before they turned again to walk away back down the darkened corridor.

'What power...' Avera marveled at the ease with which Blackridge had dismissed the guards and their willing subservience to his command.

She stood unrestrained in the darkness of the hall with the looming figure of the hooded man in front of her. She had an unsettled feeling in her stomach, and she was more nervous than ever she had been.

'Is it really closed chambers that the guards of the royal regiment cannot attend?'

"Well, young lady, here we are," he told her, his words like silk and his voice like gentle water. "Avera was it?" he asked her.

She shuffled her feet, uneasy. "Y-yes, sir."

"Well, then. Come with me, please," he said, turning down the narrow corridor from which he had first appeared.

Blackridge was a pale faced man with large round eyes. His eyes were dark, so dark that the brown of his irises appeared to blend seamlessly into the blackness of his pupils. His dark cloak covered him in a deep midnight purple and seemed to fade into the blackness of the halls.

This new corridor was yet darker than its neighbor, the only light bearing source being small strips of glowing purple which lined the hall so as to ensure that its width may be easily determined. Travelers, however, were seen as little more than silhouettes.

They moved quickly through the cramped hall, barely wide enough for two men to pass. Blackridge seemed quite familiar with these halls, hardly seeming to rely on the dim light that existed in the narrow corridor, and Avera wondered if he could have made the journey without him. He led her as she followed close behind him, paying careful attention to his cloak in front of her. Somehow, she felt more comfortable around him than she had during her encounter with the guards, so much so that she ventured into a conversation with him.

"Pardon, sir," she began, and his head moved slightly at her address, signaling his attention had been given her. She smiled, glad to go on with her questions for him. "This is a mage's cloak, is it not? And you, sir, are a mage, then?" she asked with confidence.

"Indeed," he said, stopping for a moment as he turned to look her in the eyes. "Very observant. Yes," he said, resuming his travels. "I am a mage, and one of the ten."

"Wait..." Avera said, surprised.

'I hadn't expected that from him, but it does explain the subjugation of the guards.'

"That means you're..."

"That means that I am one of the commanding sages of High Palace, a personal advisor of the King, the Archmage, occupying the first of the ten seats of the High Court of the King, to which you have been summoned."

"I am?" Avera felt her blood turn cold. "But why? What have I done?"

"Let it suffice you to consider it a matter of association, and in your case, it would be best to say you didn't know anyone. Now, that's for both of our sakes. I'm a friend of your father's. Do you understand me?"

"I think so, but I still don't understand what all this is about."

"No, but you soon will," he ominously assured her. They continued on in silence until he stopped again to face her. "Now," he said, "I've gotten myself into a bit of trouble here, and I'm going to get us both out of it. Remember, you didn't see anything and you don't know anyone. Avera, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Lord Blackridge. I understand," she told him, eyes wide with interest.

"Yes, I think you do," he said, smiling before putting his hand to the unseen door in front of them, causing it to slide open. "If anyone asks," he whispered softly, bowing himself to speak to her ear, "we never talked."