The HaRT Knight Decaverse

Heir of Magic

Chapter 21

The People of the Pride

Alexander looked jealously at Merrick as he slept. Alexander’s head was starting to feel like it would split open at any second, but Dante would not allow him to go to sleep until he filled the wizard in on all the events that had happened while they were apart. As he recounted the events that had transpired over the last few weeks, the septim listened. Other than the occasional question—and his odd expression of surprise when he mentioned Joshua and Jared—the wizard remained quiet. But when Alexander remembered the strange meeting in the desert before he reached The Wandering City, Dante bombarded him with a million questions.
“When you say he had silver eyes, do you mean gray?” Dante asked.
“No, I mean silver. His eyes looked like mercury,” Alexander said, pinching the bridge of his nose. All these questions were causing his headache to grow worse. “Why? Does that mean something to you?”
“I’ve never heard of such a man, no. Thaumaturgic energy has a tendency to leave its mark in a person’s eyes. But I’ve never heard of silver eyes.” He gave Alexander a concerned look. “Whatever this man is, he worries me. The power you describe can be dangerous if he’s on Cain’s side.”
“I don’t think he’s on Cain’s side. I don’t think he’s on anyone’s side. He might not have helped me, but he didn’t kill me either, and if he had wanted to kill me, I’d be dead. No, I think—” Alexander stopped, surprised at the instinctive conclusion he had reached without realizing it. “I think he wants to be on my side, but he’s not allowed.”
“What do you mean?” Dante said.
“He said he has a master that wouldn’t allow him to interfere.”
“What master?”
“I don’t know,” Alexander said after a few seconds. His weariness was getting worse and his eyes were feeling sensitive to light. “He said I wasn’t ready to know.”
Dante frowned but shook his head. “We’ll come back to that, but what I meant was: what do you mean you think he wants to be on our side? What makes you say that?”
“Because I’ve met him once before.” Alexander knelt and pulled the dagger from his boot and froze on his way back up. Something in his peripheral vision had caught his attention but when he turned to face it, all he saw was the severed tail from the scorpenox the wizard had killed the previous day. Chalking it up to weariness, he showed Dante the dagger. “The first day I was part of The Golden Spear, he showed up on the ship and gave me this.”
“You mean this dagger was given to you? I always assumed you had it made for yourself in memory of your father.”
“Why would you assume that?” Alexander frowned as he struggled to stay focused.
“Because of the symbol on the dagger’s hilt. It’s an ancient, defunct seal of Tír na Angelus—or part of it at least.”
“What does that have to do with my dad?”
“Because, other than a part of an ancient seal, it was the symbol used by your father after his marriage to your mother. Milara gave him a cloak with that symbol embroidered on the back as a teasing joke, but later it became known as Leander’s symbol. I figured you must have seen the cloak, or your mother told you about it and that’s why you had the dagger made.”
Alexander stared at the dagger with new eyes. “What do you mean it was a joke?”
“The original seal had a voynich key on the left, a dhaesí caduceus on the right, and Raziel’s crown above. The central symbol—the one your father used and now adorns your dagger—is a Jördai cross. The moon and sun in the middle are the two of the three pieces of the Jördai source, and the five triangles each represent one of the five basic elements. In short, the seal represented all the branches of magic angelians can use.”
“Okay, I don’t get the joke,” Alexander said, his sluggish mind too tired to figure it out on its own.
“Your mother was teasing your father. You see, no matter how hard your father tried or how powerful he was, he was just incapable of using voynich or dhaesí magic. But, as I told you once, your father was one of the most powerful people in all of Tír na Angelus, and the reason for that was because he was a true master in Jördai magic. He mastered all the sub branches, that is unheard of except for Angelus, Marcus, and later, Cain. But your father was—Alex, what’s wrong?”
Dante leaped up as Alexander doubled over with pain. His headache reached a breaking point. His eyes felt like they would explode out of his skull. He looked pleadingly at Dante for help and panic filled him. Information bombarded his mind as his eyes seemed able to take in everything. Not the normal detail he always saw, but literally everything. He could see Dante standing in front of him, a concerned look on his face, but he could also see the wizard from behind, from the left, from the right, and from the inside. He could see straight through the old man, through muscle bone and organs.
But the wizard was not the only thing his eyes could penetrate, they saw the energy of the world, not just the thaumaturgic aura, but all energy, from the blinding river of light that Alexander suspected was the connection between the septim and the voynich source, to the waves of thermal energy that dominated the desert. And last, he could see the thing that had been in his peripheral vision earlier, four scorpenoxes digging their way through the ground towards them. One of the giant scorpions was right beneath Dante and was about to dive out of the ground.
“Dante look out!” Alexander yelled and tackled the old wizard to the ground and out of the way of the Scorpenox. The two of them hit the ground and Alexander’s vision snapped back to normal.
“Alex, what are you doing?” Dante asked in concern.
Alexander frowned as he realized there had been no danger. There was no scorpenox exploding free from beneath the ground. Had it all been a fatigue inspired delusion? He wondered. “I’m sorry, I just thought—”
Before he could finish, the ground where Dante had been a second ago exploded and the scorpenox arrived.
There were three more explosions of sand and three more giant scorpions appeared. The commotions woke Merrick up and he ducked just in time as one of the beast’s claws came down on the tree where he had been dozing. He was either still half asleep, or he was too weak from the previous night’s ordeal, but he moved too slow to dodge the claw the scorpenox swung like a club.
Alexander drew his one remaining sword and tried to run to Merrick, but he only managed a few steps before one beast struck at him with its claws one after the other. Dante had constructed half of the pentacle key he had used the previous day when one of the creatures took advantage of the major weakness of Gate Magic—it required time. Before the septim could finish the pentacle key, the scorpenox attacked him, thrusting its stinger into the wizard’s shoulder.
At the same time, the beast that had knocked Merrick to the ground slammed its spear-like leg through the man’s chest, leaving behind a bloody hole where his heart had been.
“No!” Alexander screamed. His momentary distraction cost him. The second he had looked away, the scorpenox he had been facing grabbed hold of his sword in its claw and wrenched it from his grasp. It brought its tail down on him to sting him, but he blocked it with aeroturgy. But without a sword, that was about as much as he could do.
Aeroturgy won’t be of any help against these things. I don’t know offensive gate magic, and even if I did, I’m nowhere near skilled enough to produce anything before they’d kill me, Alexander thought as the remaining three Scorpenoxes all closed in on him.
All seemed lost, but just then, there was a whistle and a spear of unknown design hit the scorpenox that had stung Dante and wedged itself between the creature’s armored plates. The next second, fire exploded out of the creature, blowing it to pieces. On his other side, the scorpenox that had attacked Merrick was squealing in protest as three figures—two female and one male—attacked the creature. Alexander immediately knew who they had to be. The pride had found them. Like cevarions, these people had the bodies of humans but the heads of animals, but unlike cevarions whose visage could take on that of any land animal, these were all lions. They had slender tails with dark tufts of hair on the ends, round ears, glowing amber eyes, and the male had a rust-colored mane that covered his head and reached to his shoulders. Brownish-yellow fur covered all three of them and they wore little clothes other than their loincloths, large leather belts that covered most of their muscular stomachs, and a single sleeve and pauldron made from what looked like the carapace of fallen scorpenoxes. One of the three leaped on the creature from the side, slamming her spear of flames through the armored plate that melted like ice. The giant scorpion tried to pull back, but the other two pride members were waiting for it and leaped onto it. One of them severed the tail while the other cut off its legs.
Fire, Alexander thought. Their weakness is fire.
The scorpenox that had disarmed him snapped at him with one of its claws and Alexander parried it with another blast of aeroturgy before slipping beneath the creature’s body. There was only one pyroturgy spell he knew, the same one he had learned when he was just five. He made a fist and knelt low before launching himself upwards with his aeroturgy to gain as much force as possible. Alexander’s fist connected with the hard plates on the creature’s belly and he forced as much of his own thaumaturgic energy as he could manage into the thing's body before setting it on fire.
The explosion was massive, a lance of flame reached ten feet into the air and Alexander flew straight through the circular hole burned through the scorpenox’s body. He landed gracefully and his eyes fell on Dante, all his veins visible as they pulsed and he frothed at the mouth.
Alexander sprinted to the old man, dropped to his knees, and pulled out the case of phoenix tears. When he had the vial in hand, he poured half the it content into the wound, not taking care to conserve any of the precious content. For good measure, he poured the rest of the vial into Dante’s mouth and lifted his head to force him to swallow.
“Please, Dante, don’t die. I can’t lose you too,” Alexander pleaded when it seemed like the phoenix tears weren’t working. But after a few seconds, the wizard’s body relaxed and his breathing returned to normal. Once the pulsing veins started to fade, Alexander closed his eyes and sighed with relief. Only then, with his panic calmed, did he notice the surrounding whispering.
Alexander got to his feet and turned to his saviors. About twenty Pride members stood around him, looking at him with wide eyes as they whispered to each other.
“He’s the one from the stories.”
“Is it really him?”
“He wears the cloak of the phoenix—it must be him.”
“He used phoenix tears to heal the old man.”
“The one from the legends has come.”
“Enough!” a deep voice boomed out from behind the crowd of pride members. “Ekone, fetch the Prince’s sword for him. Negash, Temba, have a stretcher made for the old man, you will carry him to the village. Sheba, Zuberi, take care of the fallen warrior. The rest of you gather the pieces of the scorpenoxes and burn them.”
The lion people rushed to comply with the orders and as they scattered, they revealed the one who had spoken. He was a foot taller than any of the others and his chest and shoulders were a good deal broader. He stepped forward and extended a paw-like hand to Alexander.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Alexander,” the lion-man said with a deep voice. “My name is Chaka, son of Chief Dieba.”
Alexander extended a hand and took the offered one. The palms of Chaka’s hand were very rough and calloused, and as he squeezed, his sharp claws dug into the back of Alexander’s hand.
“You know who I am?” Alexander said.
“The wizard Dante told us you would come.” Seeing the concern on Alexander’s face, he added, “You can trust us, Prince of Tír na Angelus. The pride are the enemies of Cain. You will not find enemies among us.”
“Chaka!” one of the pride said. “The fallen one, he’s not so fallen.”
“What?” Chaka said to the lion-woman kneeling next to Merrick.
“The scorpenox ripped his heart out, yet here it beats. The hole in his chest closes before my eyes,” she said.
“Merrick will be fine. He can’t—” Alexander cut off. It was not his place to reveal the other man’s secrets.
Chaka moved over to Merrick and squinted as he knelt beside him. His face became a mask of sorrow and pity as he said, “This man bears the dark flame. It will not allow him to die so easily.”
“You can see it? You know what he is?” Alexander asked.
“I can.” Chaka nodded, then looked at the woman and said, “This one is more beast than we are. But I do not sense malice in him. Make a stretcher for him as well. You and Zuberi will carry him to the village.”
Alexander stared at Chaka. So far, the people of the pride were nothing like their cousins the moondrakes. Everything about them spoke to power and strength and yet, they conveyed a simple gentleness and wisdom.
“Your swords, great one,” another deep voice said.
Ekone was kneeling before Alexander, presenting his sword above his head in open hands.
With a soft, “Thanks,” Alexander took the weapons and placed it in his scabbard.
“You would have been better served with a spear against the Scorpenoxes,” Chaka said, coming to stand next to Alexander again. He produced his own spear, similar to those of his brothers’ and sisters’. It was a mixture of ivory, scorpenox carapace, and Primoris glass—a glass so strong it could rival iron. The tip of the spear was made from the sting of a scorpenox and right below it, inside the glass sphere, was a dancing flame. “And, for future reference, when you slay one of the creatures, it is best to burn all of it as fast as possible. Their blood attracts their brethren.”
“Well, that explains that,” Alexander said, remembering the piece of tail that had remained behind from the scorpenox they had killed the previous day. He stared at Dante and his stomach tied itself into knots.
“You’re worried about your friend?” Chaka said.
“Yes.” Alexander nodded. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost him.”
“He will be okay, Prince Alexander. Scorpenox venom is no match for phoenix tears. He just needs some time to rest,” Chaka said with a reassuring tone.
The pride had done quick work of disposing of the bodies of fallen beasts and the gathering of the equipment Alexander’s company had with them. Within minutes, they were done, and they set off into the desert once more, with Alexander at the lead next to Chaka. The unconscious bodies of Merrick and Dante were being carried on wooden boards right behind them, and every now and again, Alexander would hazard a glance back at them to make sure they were okay. Whenever he did, however, he also noticed the other members of the pride staring at him as if they expected him to produce rainbow colored cakes from his rear-end.
“Why do they keep staring at me?” Alexander asked in a whisper only loud enough so Chaka could hear him.
“Perhaps it is because they cannot believe what they are seeing. I apologize for my people’s rudeness, but you will understand it all later tonight. I do not wish to ruin the story.” Chaka smiled. “I will say this however, we are not angelian, and so none of us have ever seen someone use pyroturgy by producing their own flames.”
Alexander shot the dancing flame in the glass bulb of Chaka’s spear a glance. He hadn’t ever considered that maybe the pride wouldn’t be able to produce their own flames, but now it made sense why they carried fire with them.
“Also, the sheer amount of power you produced was impressive,” Chaka went on. “As the one who will train you, I’m pleased.”
“You’re my teacher?” Alexander asked.
“Yes.” Chaka smiled at Alexander. “In the pride, before someone can begin pyroturgy training, they have to find a mentor. Once a warrior agrees to train them, the mentor sort of adopts their student as a spiritual father or mother. I am the best in our tribe at pyroturgy, and as the Prince of Tír na Angelus, you deserve the very best.”
“So what, you’re like my dad now?” Alexander laughed.
Chaka laughed as well. “Not exactly. It’s more like what other people would call a godfather. And not yet, before I can become your teacher you must become an honorary member of the pride. That will happen tonight.”