Chapter 4
The Journal of Celestial Mage Kadmus Castro
Fifty-Fourth Sun, Thirteenth Cycle, Twelfth Age
I did it.
I actually did it.
I used the power from the Aurora Comet and—
And—
I destroyed an obelisk.
Only one, not all four. I didn’t know what I was doing, wasn’t sure it would even work—and it nearly didn’t.
I’m strong for a mage, but the ellixen emitted by Aurora was unlike anything I’ve ever channeled during a celestial event.
It was a struggle to maintain a connection, and I only managed to do so long enough to siphon a fraction of her power.
Once I had it, instead of using it to bless my shallows, I speared its full force toward the southernmost obelisk.
At first, I feared nothing had happened.
But then I saw it: a small crack.
And then I felt it: the Hallow Stream. Roaring. Raging.
The crack destroyed the infusion on that one obelisk, but I couldn’t hold Aurora’s power long enough to bring down the other three. Even so, while most of the Stream’s magic remained suppressed, a small amount was able to break free and surge outward.
It was angry. Furious.
And it came straight for me.
I have never
I can’t begin to
I don’t have words for the amount of power that flooded me. How strong I felt. How invincible I was.
But then Tephryn and the fabricator mages repaired the crack, and the magic vanished, silenced once more.
I want it back. I need it back.
There’s a hunger in me. An insatiable, relentless desperation to feel it again.
No, to feel even more. But that can only happen if all four obelisks are destroyed—permanently.
As long as an alchemist is on Elverdine Isle, as long as the fabricator mages are here, they will always be able to repair the wardstones, or build new ones.
But I think I know a way around that.
Because while the Stream’s magic flooded me, it also whispered to me. Shouted. Screamed.
It wants to be free. Demands to be free.
And I can help make that happen, using Aurora’s lover, Orion, the second of the Adastrum Devotis comets. His power matches hers, maybe even exceeds it. Either way, he will be strong enough to destroy all four obelisks.
The problem is, I’m not strong enough to channel Orion for the length of time needed to draw down the required power.
There is, however, a way that I could be.
Instead of a blessing rite, I could use a sacrificial ritual—a forbidden sacrificial ritual, in which the blood element involves not the drop of my own that I normally use, but instead blood from someone else.
And not just a drop.
The sacrifice requires death.
If I were to go through with it, the ritual would strengthen my ellixen to untold levels, which would enable me to maintain a connection with Orion for long enough to destroy the obelisks.
The idea is reprehensible. Sacrificial magic is forbidden for a reason: To use it is to leave a scar on your very soul.
And yet…
I can’t stop thinking about how it would solve everything.
I shared my thoughts with Magistratus Garrin, fully expecting him to send me packing from the island.
I didn’t factor in just how hungry he and many of the other residents are for more magic, something they never knew was possible until I became their Priest. They’ve changed since I started performing my rituals here. They’ve evolved. Just as I have.
Garrin supports my plan, as do my devoted followers, though of course I didn’t tell them everything.
The details don’t matter; they all suffer from the same ravenous yearning that ensnares me, with it driving us to do things we may not be proud of but accept as necessary.
We will do whatever it takes, no matter the cost.
“For the greater good,” Garrin said when I explained to him alone what the sacrifice requires, his eyes more wild and manic than when I first arrived. It was like looking in a mirror, the Stream’s magic having left its mark on us both. On us all.
“We’ll use someone with no family or personal connections and make it look like an accident,” he added. “No one will ever learn the truth, and if they do, they’ll still be thanking us when they’re reaping the rewards.”
Reaping.
That’s exactly what we’ll be doing.
Because once the Orion sacrifice is complete and the obelisks are destroyed, the Hallow Stream will be free—and we’ll be reaping from it.
This is what it wants, I’m certain of it.
It wants to be liberated, and the only way to ensure it stays that way is for me and my shallows to access its magic—to siphon its magic—which we’ll then use to keep the fabricator mages from rebuilding the obelisks.
The amount of ellixen we’ll have at our fingertips will be more than enough to overpower them.
At least in theory.
I’ve never channeled anything other than a celestial body before.
I tried to in my youth out of curiosity, as many do, but it’s not possible on the mainland.
I assume it has something to do with the wards around the two Hallow Streams, since they shield all ellixen flowing out into the natural world, so it makes sense that they also prevent it from being siphoned.
It’s why celestial magic is so unique, because we draw power from the cosmos, far beyond the reach of the Streams’ wards.
Here on Elverdine, though…we’re also beyond the reach of those wards.
I never thought—or dared—to attempt it before the obelisks were built, but I’m confident that once the Hallow Stream’s power is flowing once more, I’ll be able to siphon from it and bestow it upon my shallows, just like I do with my celestial rituals.
The magic will be a gift, a reward for freeing it, for protecting it.
In return, my shallows and I will be strong enough to take on all the mages—and to show them who has the real power here.
Never again will the Stream’s magic be suppressed. I’ll make certain of it.
The mages will be incensed, but I care little about their tantrums. Tephryn, though…
She’ll understand once I explain. She loves me. She’ll forgive me. She’ll accept why I had to do it. Why I had no choice.
And as for Zeranthe…
She’s worried about me. Says there’s something wrong with our bond, with me.
She’s overreacting.
Our bond is fine, and I’ve never felt better.
But soon I will.
Soon I’ll be unstoppable.
For the greater good, as Garrin said.
I will do this for him, for them, for my shallows.
And I will do this for me.