Chapter 3 #3
Reaching a hand above them, they dragged a single finger through the air, a line of violet light spilling from an incision they made.
Cirian stiffened next to me, his gaze locked on the figure as the story continued.
If I didn’t know any better, it looked as though the figure had torn open the Veil into the Ether.
“The Source, having found no welcome amongst the early mortals, retreated into the space created by their despondence. The rift between worlds where it resided for millennia, whilst the Expanse fell into chaos. Without the illumination of the Great Light, mortalkind had grown hostile towards one another. Great kings rose to power and fell, one after the other, through conflict and plague, famine and fire, kingdoms rose and crumbled till the paradise that was the Expanse had become a war-torn wasteland.”
The orb’s light shifted, casting the room into hues of red as it projected shadows of battle and bloodshed across the walls around us.
“But when all had seemed lost, a glimmer of hope rose from the ashes of the mighty conflicts. For there, hidden behind the Veil that covers the Expanse, the Source waited, ready to bestow its blessing on any who would acknowledge its presence. Then came the first of the Magi Kings.
“A man of great faith had risen to power in a kingdom far to the west, where the Great Sea meets the ice capped moutains.
This king had led his people to a time of prosperity, even managing to broker an armistice between his kingdom and the surrounding territories.
The people had not known such tranquility for hundreds of years.
They worshiped the king as a god amongst mortals, and built him a temple to rival any that had come before.
“It was there the Source first appeared to the king, reaching through the Veil itself to establish communication.
When the king accepted its message, the Source proclaimed that it would grant him the power to ensure prosperity for generations to come if he would only honor the Great Light that came before it.
The king, being a man of generous spirit and open mind, accepted the offer without hesitation.
The power of the Source filled him, and he became the god that his people worshipped him as.
“As the years went on, the king, blessed with longevity beyond that of regular mortalkind, became twisted and cruel. The magic given to him by the Source was enough to crush any that would rise against him, but he still craved more. The Source itself would attempt to alter the king’s course, speaking to him directly through the rift in the Veil located in the king’s temple.
But the king’s heart had been hardened by the long years, and with each passing day, he lost more and more of his humanity.
He showed other mortals how to access the Source, and before long, more Magi Kings had risen in the east to challenge his rule, and the war of the Magi King began.
“Desperate to avoid the destruction that the Great Light had warned it of, the Source then reached beyond the confines of the Veil once more, this time to a young boy. It sought after the child, for there was a purity in his heart that the Source hoped to be incorruptible. An innocence that would resist the allure of consuming power. So, the Source appeared to the boy in a dream, giving him the words of the first prophecy of the Source. It foretold of the Magi King’s downfall, and the destruction that would come to the Expanse should he be allowed to continue wielding the Source’s power.
“The boy was terrified by the dream, but each night, the Source would return to him in that place between waking and dreaming. It was there that the boy was given his charge: he would become champion to the Source of All Magic, and ensure that its power would never again be used against the people it was created to benefit. Alongside this charge, the boy was also given a promise by the Source. That if he should serve as its champion, he would be blessed beyond all measure. The boy, an orphan of the Magi King’s endless war, had nothing to his name.
And so, he told the Source that he would accept its charge under one condition—that he would never be lonely again.
“So, the Source granted the boy a gift. A gift that brought an end to the war of the Magi King. And as the original Magi King sat upon his throne, bested by the boy chosen by the Source itself, the Magi King ordered his concubine to destroy the stores of magic they had amassed, lest it fall into the hands of those the Magi King thought unworthy. As they gasped their final breaths, the Magi King could not have foreseen the consequences of this order, for as the magical reserve was destroyed, the force once again tore a rift into the Expanse. The advisors closest to the Magi King were all who were present when it happened. Magic suffused the air around them, seeping into their blood and granting them gifts stolen from the Source itself.”
The crimson light spread over the crowd, washing the bodies in blood-red hues.
“The Awakening, they called it. When magic first spread into our world. The Magi would have you believe that it was some divine force that chose the ones gifted with magic. But that is a falsehood. The truth, friends? Far simpler. Only those in the room when the concubine destroyed the magical reserves were imbued with the gift of magic. Three advisors and one ill-fated servant. From these four, the houses of Magi would diverge.”
With a wave of the figure’s hand, the orb glowed once more, three additional orbs appearing around it in a cluster. One drifted into the space above the figure’s outstretched hand, the light from within shifting to a golden hue.
“From the Magi King’s court, his closest confidant, Adoracia Greene, known for influence amongst the wealthy and powerful. Adoracia’s bloodline would become known as the Adored, and their commanding influence would only spread amongst the Magi community in the centuries that followed.”
Cirian and I exchanged looks at the mention of Tobias’s ancestor.
The storyteller continued, a second orb drifting down from overhead, its center illuminating with a pale blue light.
“The Magi King’s spiritual advisor, Vanena Belladonna, whose bloodline would become known as the Hallowed, would go on to build the Sanctuary City and become the first Saint of the Church of the Source. ”
With another gesture, the third orb descended, the light within shifting to a familiar verdant green.
“The Magi King’s advisor in the ways of science, Annora Valencia, whose bloodline would become known as the Revered, now vilified as Reviled by the Church.
Annora would act alongside Vanena in matters regarding the Source, and worked diligently to record the earliest examples of incantations and spell work. ”
With a final flourish, the fourth orb descended, its light shifting to a deep violet.
“A slave in the Magi King’s possession, the last of those present during the First Awakening was a man whose name has been lost to time.
But we know that the Awakening granted him the ability to create life, and that his progeny would become known as the Unseen.
It is because of this man’s status that the Unseen are still looked upon today with disdain by those from the other Magi groups. ”
The orbs circled around the storyteller, casting strange shadows across the porcelain mask that seemed to shift the decorative lines into writhing shapes.
“The Magi teach that the Awakening was a divine blessing. That the Source looked upon those who were noble and true and bestowed its blessings upon them. They used these falsehoods to claim superiority over mortalkind and have continued to exert their influence over those who cannot resist. But now, my friends, we have been given the resources to reach an equilibrium.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“No longer will the blessed elite control the fate of the masses,” the figure continued, the orbs around them speeding up faster and faster, till they blurred in a halo of white light. “You can rise and take it from them. Seize control of the Expanse and restore the balance to our world.”
Shouts of support echoed through the space, several members of the crowd jumping to their feet to applaud the storyteller. After a moment, the figure raised their arms, calling for silence once more.
“You may have questions. That is to be expected. Encouraged, even. For how can one truly support a cause that is not proven to be just? I would ask your patience, friends, and allow me the indulgence of one last story. See, what I have told you thus far is the truth. But it is not the entire truth. When the time comes, I ask you to place your faith in me. In our mission. That kind of trust requires radical honesty. A complete baring of one’s soul. That is what I wish to provide.
“Many of you may be wondering who I am,” the figure continued, snatching each of the four orbs from the space around them, gathering them back into a single orb.
“And asking yourself, ‘how can we know that this is true?’ I don’t blame you, friends.
For in this world, magic can cloud the senses.
Make you see things that aren’t true. Hear secrets fabricated through incantations.
Taste the falsehood against your tongue, sweet as honey.
But I am certain these stories are no fabrication.
And in just a moment, I will reveal to you all just how I can be certain. ”
The figure tossed the orb up, catching it again as it fell. They did this a few times as they walked the perimeter of the space at the center of the crowd. And even though they wore the porcelain mask, I could tell that they were watching the crowds. Searching for something that eluded me.
“This nutter has gone full mental,” Cirian whispered, leaning close. “Do they really expect people to believe this wash?”