Chapter One Alistair #2
“Harmonite,” Liliana corrected testily. “The lords and ladies of the lowlands might refer to their baubles as song crystals, but I prefer the technical term. As you well know.”
“My mistake,” Erys said, sounding not the least bit contrite.
Alistair couldn’t tell if the mage enjoyed stirring the pot or was simply in a perpetual good mood.
“As you can see, she does a fine job, with a good eye for detail. Brother Kelvin represents the Church of Light and ensures we remain steady on the path to righteousness.”
Kelvin barely inclined his head. “A pleasure, Sir Knight. I welcome you in the Light.”
Alistair tried not to squirm beneath Kelvin’s stern-faced scrutiny.
Though the Order was technically the militant arm of the Church, members of the two organizations rarely interacted except when required to by duty.
Alistair preferred it that way. Priests like Kelvin always made him uneasy, their ardent faith threatening to highlight his own lack thereof.
Alistair believed in the Light’s power—how could he not when dawnflame flowed through his veins?
But the holy Light directing them for some divine purpose?
The Dawn Aspects and other Celestials watching over them from the Immortal Realm?
Those tenets of Church doctrine left him far less certain.
He’d need to step carefully around Kelvin—even a lesser priest from a backwater town like this could cause trouble for him within the Order.
“Blessings of the Light to you as well,” Alistair replied, performing a full bow that seemed to ease some of Kelvin’s tension.
Erys glanced between them, his brow raised. “No doubt it’s good to see another friendly face. Last but not least, we have Master Maxwell there in the center, mayor of our fine town.”
“And have been for thirty years,” Maxwell said proudly, puffing out his chest. “It’s a great honor, and one I don’t take lightly.
” He fixed Erys with a frown. “Which was why I instructed Erys to beseech the Order’s assistance.
With the snows sealing the pass and our plight only growing more dire, I didn’t know where else to turn. ”
“There is no need for justification,” Alistair said. “It is the duty of every Knight to serve where they are needed, no matter how small the cause. Thus has it been in Khordan for a thousand years, and thus shall it remain for a thousand more.”
Liliana looked ready to protest again, but Erys cut in before she could.
“We appreciate your dedication, Sir Alistair. Still, we should explain what prompted our call for aid. It all started about a month ago. There were only rumors then—figures lurking in the night or glimpsed through the early snows. When our supplies began to go missing, we didn’t think much of it at first. Even in a close-knit village like ours, it’s not uncommon for the less fortunate to…
borrow what they lack in firewood or food. ”
“We are a successful town, but a small one nonetheless,” Maxwell interjected, his tone defensive.
Ignoring Kelvin’s sniff of distaste, he narrowed his eyes at Alistair as if daring him to argue.
“Our harmonite may sell for a lord’s ransom, but the land up here’s not good for much else, and shipping supplies from the lowlands costs a fortune. ”
“Especially with the Empire’s ever more exorbitant tariffs to fund the Church’s burgeoning list of priorities,” Liliana said, directing her own glare at Alistair.
Alistair couldn’t care less about small-town economics or Church politics. Before he could find a polite way to say as much, however, Brother Kelvin stepped in.
“Alas, such sacrifices are necessary for the good of the realm. The Church stands as our last bastion against both Infernal wickedness and the chaos of the Void.” He gestured at Alistair. “Why, without the Order’s Knights, who would we have to solve our current woes?”
Alistair shifted uncomfortably even as he tried to maintain an impassive air of authority.
Merciful Light, how had his father always made this look so easy?
“Thank you for your kind words, Brother Kelvin. I shall endeavor to live up to them. Can you tell me anything more about these figures spotted in the night?”
Kelvin’s face contorted with disgust. “Undead abominations, twisted by duskflame sorcery.”
Maxwell nodded, dabbing at his brow with a small handkerchief. “When supplies continued to vanish, we posted guards on our main warehouse. It was they who first spied the foul creatures—shambling skeletons reanimated by dark magic.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Alistair rested a hand on the pommel of his sword. “How many? Were your men able to slay any?”
An incredulous chuckle escaped Maxwell’s lips.
“My good Knight, our militia is such in name only. They’re equipped to handle the occasional drunken dispute, not defend against the living dead!
As for the monsters’ numbers, I can’t say for certain, though the guards claim they encountered an entire horde of them. ”
Alistair responded with a stiff nod. The mayor was right, of course—ordinary men shouldn’t have to face such fiends.
Still, it meant he wouldn’t be able to rely on much support.
He’d just have to hope he could handle the undead on his own.
If he had to request reinforcements on his first mission, his detractors would seize the opportunity to brand him as incompetent.
As he considered Maxwell’s words, one detail stood out to him. “You say these undead have been stealing supplies?”
“Aye,” Maxwell confirmed. “Food, firewood, blankets—even some spare furniture.”
A chill coursed down Alistair’s spine. Perfect—another complication. “Undead have no need of such mortal trappings…which means they must be gathering supplies for someone else.”
“Necromancer,” Brother Kelvin hissed. Hate blazed in his zealous gaze. “I suspected as much when the abominations didn’t simply swarm the town. Evil has invaded these mountains, and it is up to the Order to purge it.”
Alistair shared the priest’s conviction, if not his religious fervor.
To him, the Light was nothing more than a tool, no different from his sword.
Still, the conclusion remained the same.
Mindless undead were bad enough, but if an insidious will guided their actions and supported them with dark magic, it was imperative Alistair dealt with it before the situation escalated.
His father’s fate offered stark proof of what might happen if he didn’t.
“I’m afraid there’s more,” Erys said, his tone almost apologetic. “Some spotted a strange light in the distance. I suspect it may be part of a ritual or spell, though its source has proven elusive.”
“Don’t forget about the kidnappings!” Liliana said.
“Four of my artisans vanished several days ago. Sacrifices, no doubt, stolen in the dead of night. And right as we were finishing up our last harmonite projects of the season.” She pinned Erys with a withering glare.
“I suppose that’s what happens when we trust in the fickleness of runeflame to protect us. ”
Erys bowed his head. “As I’ve told you before, without a worthy apprentice, I lack the strength to resolve the situation on my own. Hence our need to call upon the Order.”
“Then perhaps it’s past time you tried again to find a competent successor,” Liliana snapped.
Alistair studied Erys, wishing he could get a better read on the man. Was that why a graduate of the esteemed Arcanum lived out here in isolation—his version of retirement?
“Such matters are best left to the Church anyway,” Kelvin said, drawing Alistair’s attention. “The undead shall be purged by holy Light—and their wicked master along with them.”
Devout faith in the Light or not, Alistair nodded along with Kelvin’s pronouncement. A rough plan began to form. “Have the undead continued to steal your supplies?”
“Every few days like clockwork,” Erys replied. “We suspect their return tonight, though with a winter storm rolling in, they might postpone their raids until it passes.”
“Unlikely,” Alistair said. “Chill winds matter little to the walking dead.” His fingers played restlessly over the hilt of his sword.
No sense postponing his duty. That was one of the first lessons his father had drilled into him as a boy—a paladin never shirked their responsibilities.
“Show me where you keep your supplies. I wish to get a lay of the land.”
“Of course!” Maxwell stood, his chair screeching over the stone in his haste to rise.
The other three leaders followed his lead at a slower pace.
“Perhaps after that, you’d like to see more of Singer’s Rest?
The harmonite caverns are a marvel to behold, and the work in Liliana’s workshop rivals anything you might find in Qori.
I’m sure she’d be happy to give you a tour. ”
Liliana’s grimace suggested that was about the last thing in the world she wanted to do. “Whatever the honorable Knight desires,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
Alistair took pity on her. “That won’t be necessary. It’s been a long day, and I want to rest and meditate before the coming battle.”
Kelvin gave an approving nod, and Alistair looked away.
No doubt the priest assumed he meant to pray, and while that might be true in a sense, his prayers had little to do with his devotion to the Dawn Aspects.
Instead, they were a practical necessity to recover his dawnflame.
His body had consumed a considerable amount in the climb, and if the town leaders were right in what he faced, he’d need all he could get for the night ahead.
Alistair followed the others to the door.
Erys gave him a covert wave, followed by a wink and a thumbs up.
Merciful Light, had his discomfort been that obvious?
Dismissing the mage, Alistair stepped toward Maxwell, stopping when a hand fell on his arm.
He turned to find Brother Kelvin smiling benevolently at him.
“It warms my heart to welcome a fellow man of the Light here.” Kelvin leaned in and continued in barely more than a whisper. “The others mean well, but their faith leaves much to be desired. I look forward to reporting your success to the Order in exacting detail.”
With a final pat on Alistair’s arm, Kelvin slipped outside.
Alistair stared after the priest, unease prickling his skin.
Was it his imagination, or had there been a veiled threat in Kelvin’s words?
Shaking his head to clear it, he forced himself to adopt the stoic calm people expected of a paladin and joined the mayor.
Let the priest posture. Tonight, Alistair would prove himself more than capable of ridding the world of a few pesky undead…along with their necromantic master.