Chapter 27 #2
“No, like you, the Vitalis, can heal. Its pages regenerate.” He holds up a crooked finger, weathered with age.
“When a page was removed, the rune on it vanished from the paper, killing the magic link to those who wore the mark. Torin discovered he could erase all the runes by removing the pages. However, the book itself was still an issue. Anyone who possessed it could redraw the runes. So Torin had few choices. Hunted and desperate, he hid it somewhere no one would think to look.”
“Caldara,” I answer. It’s smart; curses make people—even greedy ones—hesitate.
He nods, “Torin found an old entrance that hadn’t collapsed.
He opened the book, held back the covers, and stabbed it with the God Sword.
Since the pages were not ripped free, no new pages regenerated, but the runes were wounded, their magic cut off.
Removing the sword will probably require redrawing many pages unless someone can heal them. ”
“Redrawn?”
“You sound like a parrot. That is what I said.”
So Titus needs to find this book, free it of the God Sword, and then… I laugh. My brother can’t draw for shit!
“That’s it? That’s your grand story’s ending?” I sputter.
“Did you want mage fireworks, boy? Let me guess, you wanted a ‘happily ever after’?”
“Who told you this story?” I push off the wall. “You said it was told to you as a boy. How do I know if any of it is true? It could all be a myth.”
“Wasn’t it you who, upon first meeting me, said, ‘Myths have seeds of truth,’ and later I repeated that? By the gods, boy, how dim and daft can you be?”
He’s got me.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Find the seeds.”
“What if I don’t like what they grow?” I challenge, folding up the map and placing it in my pocket. This story is as heavy a burden as Everett’s fae magic. I can choose to harbor it as Titus did or… I can pick a different path.
I can decide not to tell Titus. Force him far away from these lands.
“Do not blame the flower for the color of its petals. It has no choice. If you tell it that it is ugly, it will become so. If you choose to use runes to create evil, they will be seen as corruption. Create good. Do good. Evil will grow regardless. Look at how some wield their magic; we kill without blinking. Bringing runes back into the world will not stop that.”
“Why should we let them return?”
“You were born a vampire, boy; you had an advantage over others.”
How dare he judge me!
“I was an orphan at an early age. I had no mother to love me when I woke with night terrors. I was given a sword and forced to kill. The only luxury I possessed were the skills that were forced into my hands so I could survive, but it was not without a heavy cost. The kingdom only cared about my survival if I was good at killing.”
“What if you were born a human?” he rebuttals. “No magic, just skin and bones.”
“I was skin and bones as a boy,” I scoff. “My magic didn’t manifest until adolescence, like all vampires do. Yes, humans have no magic later in life, but that taught them to be resourceful. Look at what humans have invented.”
It is because of humans that we have machines without the use of magic.
They have built cities made of metal and not stone.
On the contrary, I respect humans for all they have accomplished without magic, but in the end, we were all born the same, and this old man will not make me feel guilty for being born a vampire!
“Would you trade your circumstances to be a human?”
My shadow magic hisses under my skin. I can't imagine a life without magic. My anxiety is what humans must have felt when they were given runes. A taste that was eventually stolen from them by Torin.
He raises his chin. “No, I didn’t think so. When you are standing on a higher step, it’s easy to look down into the eyes of the people looking up. But have you looked at their feet and the path they walked in order to remain standing?
“The time is coming, boy. Evil will always have roots here, but if we are all even, then we stand a better chance of not being tempted by it. Runes make us even.”
“You never answered my question, old man. Who told you this story?”
He stands and walks to his bed. “I told you, I was told the story as a boy.”
I impatiently run my tongue over my fangs. “By whom?”
He touches the post of his bed, as if this matter pains him.
“I’m orphaned like you. Only back then, the bed I had made this one look like it was worthy of a king.
” He pats the blankets and smiles at them.
“When I was a boy, my keepers traded me to a fae. She was a gentle soul. That’s when I realized what we were—vampire, fae, human—didn’t matter; it was who we were.
This fae was caring, loving, and she became my mother. ”
Turning lazily, he sits on the bed and looks long at his old, withered hands.
“Each night, she told me a bedtime story from the days of old. It wasn’t until later in my life that I realized they were not stories.
She had the magic of hindsight. But the past didn’t matter, so they never deemed her useful and cast her aside.
So she wrote many books, concealing the past’s truths with twisted plots that sold.
For decades, the Vitalis was guarded, but over time, the guards grew too relaxed.
People stole, used, abused, traded, and won the book of runes in battles. ”
The old bedtime stories we were told about runes were true. There was once a time when everyone used them.
“But how did the world just forget about runes? You said there were hundreds of runes. Surely a symbol is marked somewhere,” I argue.
He flips his hands over and gazes into his palms. “When Torin cut off the magic, tattoos became a symbol, symbols turned into meaningless patterns, then nothing at all. Why ink your flesh if the drawing has no meaning? The crest of a kingdom became more powerful.”
He clears a congested cough from his lungs. “Who’s to say a symbol marked on these old castle walls was not once a rune? I’ll tell you this, boy, I’d bet my life runes surround us; they just don’t work anymore. We consider the pattern just a decoration.”
I scan his walls, but they are barren.
“It’s time for me to sleep, but I should warn you of one other thing my mother saw. This changed Everett’s plans; it forced him to keep certain people alive. Torin placed his magic over the Vitalis. Caged it,” the old man states.
My brows furrow. “You can’t turn magic into an object.”
“We turn people into objects all the time, boy. Mages can store their magic in objects, and now they have figured out a way to infuse those gemstones into swords, making magical weapons. Haven’t you asked yourself why King Galen is so worried?
He has the numbers, but imagine a human and mage army stocked with magic weapons that deliver a blow ten times stronger?
That scares our king, and it should scare you. ”
I can see it. The vision hollows out my stomach and scrapes clean my tongue. I’m unsure if food will have the same sensation again.
Death. So much death.
“We’re on the precipice of killing ourselves off. And as we kill each other, a new beast is born.”
I flex my forearms, hoping to dispel the fear that covers them. “What precisely was Torin’s magic?”
“Aww, he finally asked the correct question,” the old vampire purrs, and I roll my eyes. “It was what I wish to claim me, to free me from these weary bones. Death.”
A frown tugs at my lips. I hate the old man, but he’s kind of fun to banter with, and the idea of him dying… yeah, I don’t like it.
“Death,” I echo, the word sour on my tongue.
He nods. “Just as Everett gave his magic to Titus, Torin spoke this to his magic, ‘I order you to cage this book, here on this slab, so it can never be moved; should anyone touch you, you shall strike them dead.’”
“That doesn’t sound like a friendly welcome mat. How the fuck can Titus get the book then?”
“There is one more thing Torin said you need to know…”
“Why can’t we just end this story here?” I rasp. “Never mind; don’t reply. Continue,”
“Say please.” He crosses his arms.
“Now,” I deadpan.
“In this kingdom, we spell ‘please’ with different letters.” He snorts. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. Torin didn’t realize his magic was still obeying his demand when he said, ‘For none can rival death but itself.’” He tilts his head as he waits for me to understand.
“So you’re telling me I need to find someone with death magic?”
Oh shit…
He replies before I can. “You don’t need to find them. They are already here.”
His mage ring glows as he waves his hand. The wall behind me grumbles as the door opens.
“That is all I can tell you, so unless you plan on trying to seduce me and sleep with a librarian, as Titus suggested, I’m headed to bed. Good night, pompous prick.” When he reaches for the buckle of his belt, I grimace and edge towards the door.
“I’ll be back,” I warn him.
“I knew you’d say that.” He chuckles to himself as he slips into bed.