Torin #3
Silas shakes his head, “If you did, you’d never pack that book. It is a weapon, just as the swords are. It stays behind. Who knows, maybe that book can help stop the evil that has taken root here. The army is ready,” he barks, stepping to the side and staring at us down his nose.
Not once does he lower his shields.
Erevan nostrils flare. “Put the veil up first,” he orders.
Silas’s brow arches, but he agrees. He closes his eyes, jaw set firm. The air shifts as his body takes on a glowing hue of blue fire, like a star shooting through a night sky. The vein in his neck pulses as his muscles strain.
I know he’s only doing this because this is where the love of his life lived.
Where his son who has fallen in love with a fae lives.
In the lands to the far northwest, under the shade of the mountains.
Silas’s first trip proved that leaving doesn’t eliminate our magic from the lands.
Magic can transcend distance. Therefore, returning with the book won’t prevent the runes’ effect on this world.
Two years of painstaking work went into copying my runes into a book, which now serves as my rune dictionary.
Now, the people here can redraw existing runes.
I presented the copied book as a gift to Lord Thalis, the dragon rider.
However, if I must exchange books, those I’ve trained in rune drawing can create more.
Runes I have not approved in the original book.
Erevan shifts. His armor is so lethally crafted it makes no sound when he moves. His eyes drift down to the God Sword in his hand.
“Perhaps…” I know what he’s going to suggest before he utters it. “Perhaps the sword can destroy the book. It can kill us, so it should be able to kill our creations.”
“You kill the book, and the runes will vanish. What of the dragon riders, of the humans who use these runes to remain equal? No! That is too cruel,” I choke in horror. That book is like our child. Could he slay it so easily?
Erevan bites his lip. “I did not consider the riders.”
I grab the sword from his hand. Silas’s eyes snap open. “It is done. A veil of defense is up. It will hold.” His eyes lock on my hands. “Give me the sword so I can give it to whom Erevan named last night.” He comes forward, hand open.
Slowly, I raise the God Sword. I remember forging this one. For hours, I hammered the metal, pouring more strength into it. Too much. I cared for my creations too much.
I gasp when my fingers uncurl, and the sword falls into Silas’s waiting hands. He holds Erevan’s stare before he leaves the room, sword in hand.
Erevan glares at the book. It’s the first time he’s ever looked at it with disdain. He must feel as I did when I made those swords. It’s shocking to be told your child is not only grotesque but also a tyrant. As parents, we try so hard to defend our creations, but sometimes that makes us blind.
I reach for the book and flip through the pages, recalling the moment I drew each rune. Then I reach the blank pages, knowing the book will never run out of them.
“Do you think they will draw new runes?” I ask as I flip the blank pages.
“I fear what we won’t be able to draw. Silas does not realize this book is one of the strongest items ever made. It has the core magic of two gods fused.” Erevan begins to pace the room, running a hand through his hair.
I pick up the book, press it to my chest, and kiss the front cover.
“Amariel.” Erevan stops. “Give me the book.”
“Why?” I hand it over, furrowing my brow.
He doesn’t answer as he places it on the desk and starts taking deep breaths.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
His eyes close, magic seeps out, but it is not his magic!
I knew it! He does harbor another god’s core magic!
Shimmers of black grasp the page like spiderwebs, covering it entirely. “That’s Tova’s magic,” A tear slides down my cheek. Tova, was the God of Replication. She was the third of us to be slayed.
Erevan sings his enchantment magic, forcing it to mix with Tova's; then, using his small dagger, he slices his palm, infusing his blood into it. He inhales sharply as the magic disintegrates, dancing in the air. The book shakes, then it stills.
Erevan grunts. Suddenly, he grabs my hand. His magic seeps into my skin, finding my magic. He tugs at my core.
I allow him to grab hold of it. To take a part of me without permission.
Erevan stumbles forward, crashing into the desk.
“What did you do?” I help steady him, but my stomach feels adrift.
Loving him gave him the key to my magic. He’s never taken a piece of it before, but he did just now. I let him.
“I replicated the book,” Erevan answers as he studies his hand, “It’s magic to forge runes is within me now.”
“You had Tova’s magic.” I whisper in a breathless horror. “Why did you not tell me?”
“I made a deal with Tova for a large piece of her core magic, long before you figured out how to master starfire, Amariel. I honestly forgot, it’s been a hidden dagger I just remembered I had. This is good news, my love. We can still make runes."
“You can make runes,” I correct him. I can’t without my book. My eyes blur with painful tears from not having blinked. All of my blood has drained into the pits of my hollow stomach.
"Don't look at me like that. Everything I do is for you.” The yellow in his brown eyes darkens.
I want to step back, but I’m frozen in place. My emotions are a thunderstorm coloring my cheeks in a hot red fire. “You stole a piece of my magic. My ability to forge was within those pages.” I glare at his hands.
“Stole?” He recoils slightly. “I’m keeping it safe. You safe.”
Me or my magic?
“We don’t have time for this. Do not let Silas drive a wedge between us.
He is jealous of our love.” With visible effort, he stands tall.
He takes a few deep breaths, and then his complexion returns to a healthy glow.
Erevan takes my hand. “I will tell Lord Thalis of the book. He and his dragon shall watch over it. We will take the copy.”
I can’t stop looking at his fingers. What can he forge with them now?
“It’s time.” He guides me to the door. I look back at the book, just as I did with Lucian. Longing, regret over my decisions, a terrible feeling I’m about to lose again, bombard my mind, turning me into a shell that is easily occupied by others.
Just like last time, I numbly follow Erevan. Because I love him, just as I loved Lucian. I obey there orders.
“It’s all going to work out as planned.” Erevan squeezes my hand, but keeps his sights ahead.
Was coming to Panthas really ever our plan? Was it truly meant to save the gods?
Erevan presented it.
It’s always been his plan.
Silas was wrong. It’s not me who is the imbalance.
Torin
I always thought my last breath would be painful, filled with lost dreams and the time needed to accomplish them. I thought I would have sealed my lips shut as I tried to hold that last exhale in my lungs. I would have begged the divine heavens to give me just one more day, one more hour.
I was wrong. Utterly, bitterly wrong.
A smile curls my lips as I push out every last drop of my dying breath into the stale air that crackles with my magic.
Having all my power ripped and forced out of my body will be… unimaginable. There is beauty in debauchery; it’s free, wild, and untamed. It’s not delicately pretty and poised.
The sword hangs in my hand, covered in my blood, the ultimate show of my devotion to my world.
The drip-drop of my blood echoes in these cavernous, hollowed-out walls that once belonged to a king.
Now, the remnants of the castle lay buried in a cursed land.
Once known as Caldara, famed for its outrageous luxuries, thanks to the mines hidden beneath its soil.
They dug too deep. Weakened the land. It swallowed them in return.
Most died the day it sank. Those who escaped whispered that the gods had cursed the land. A tale that serves me well—no one dares come here.
The ground is riddled with sinkholes that open into tapped-out mines. A few escape tunnels, buried deep in the mountain and unseen, are all that remain. A hidden location I discovered in a book I burned. These walls are nothing more than a skeleton. A perfect place to hide a terrible weapon.
I was born a fae, but I will die like a human—magicless, just flesh and bone.
Now I understand why so many humans want to remain in their natural state. It makes life more precious, less endless, more important.
In our lands, which rage and fester with war, the feeling of importance is hard to find when lives are snuffed out faster than eyes can blink.
My people never accepted me. I was an outcast, never understood. No one even tried. So I sank back, hid in the shadows, and tried my best to remain unseen.
That was better than being rejected.
What will they think of me now? Savior to all.
The stolen book, which we call the Vitalis, weighs heavily in my dying hands. A book the gods left for us. Some praise it, but I know the truth: it was a test we failed. It’s a book meant to bring about our downfall. A book that houses all the runes and gives them life.
I was hardly the first thief who stole this book from the veiled lands now known as Lunestra. Therefore, my guilt is no more than a single leaf dancing in the wind.
The others are to blame; their guilt hangs as heavy as an age-old timber fallen to the scorched earth.
I, Torin Lochenhiem, am determined to end the War of Broken Oaths, an era in which rune magic runs rampant and laws are erased to create new runes.
Balance has been severed by the excessive use of runes.
Symbols that once brought peace can no longer be trusted, for whoever possesses this book controls everything.
More. More. They all want more, no matter the cost.