Bonded Mages 1 Epilogue (Patreon)

AN - I wrote this but I'm still not sure if I'm going to put it in the final book or push it to a prologue for book 2.

*** Eighteen Years Ago ***

Hecate woke up from yet another slumber, still recovering from the censure. She pressed against the stone lid and pushed, tearing away old vines and roots and sliding the lid to the side.

“Again.” She whispered, her voice smooth despite the thousand years of rest.

Her power came when she called and she floated herself upwards, closing the sarcophagus with a wave of her hands.

The gorgeous robe she had been wearing before hadn’t weathered the time nearly as well as the rest of her. She would replace it in time.

Unlike mortals she didn’t put such a point on appearances.

Mortals.

The word stuck in her mind and the image of Zenov came unbidden. Of course he’d be one of the first things she thought about.

Once again, anger flared in her at his betrayal.

She had given him the capacity for magic, expanding his soul and allowing it to connect with the world outside.

But no.

That had been the chink in her armor that her enemies used to strike her, censure her right after she had given the mortal magic.

It had forced her into these thousand year fits of sleep in order to recover now that she was disconnected from her greater power.

“Let us see where your descendants are now.” She reached out, able to feel all of those who had the capacity for magic, it had trickled down through mortal blood for eight thousand years.

It was thin in many of them. But Zenov’s line had always stayed strong. Strong enough for her to vent her anger at his betrayal.

For when she had given Zenov magic, the ambitious and kind man who had begged for the power to help his people, she had made him immortal. Or at least given him the keys.

But he had squandered it.

Traded it for four inert seeds of magic born from various beasts. It reeked of Freya who had stolen Hecate’s gift to Zenov.

So rather than finding the utopia that Zenov had dreamed, she was stuck on this world with more corrupt rulers who had been given power.

That’s how it always went, for mortals and for gods. The avarice inside of them only grew the more they gained.

Yet her anger had made her rash and she had not allowed those monstrous seeds to remain inert, instead giving them life and allowing mages to saturate them and unleash the monsters in their hearts.

Each time she awoke she would disrupt the mages in power, that took her gift for granted.

But…

As she continued to sense for them.

She found nothing.

“None?” Her voice cracked, it hadn’t done that since she found Zenov’s grave. She certainly found those that had a trickle of the blood, those that had some capacity for magic, those that had enough to hold one, two or even three seeds.

But none were strong enough to hold four.

Zenov’s direct descendants were… gone.

Hecate sat down, suddenly feeling at a loss. Her purpose had been to punish them, to take out the anger of her censure, Zenov’s betrayal and Freya’s schemes on them.

Yet, now that they were gone, she found herself missing them.

Here, amid this world, they were the only ones who could control the true beauty. Magic.

Even having taken the short cut and using Freya’s seeds they still worked to develop their magic, giving her a unique challenge each time she awoke.

She remember her last time she was awake. There had been a protracted battle through a canyon, collapsing much of it as Zenov’s descendant had actually matched her briefly, delving past those seeds into his true capacity for magic.

She had pushed him hard before retreating. There was some hope that her magic would rise above Freya’s petty gift that one of the mages would embrace her magic.

To an extend she had been expecting it, for her gift to finally come to the forefront.

Yet, it’s absence only doubled the loss she felt.

He should have survived.

Yet it was clear he hadn’t or hadn’t survived far past that.

Sitting in her tomb, she wondered, what now?

She couldn’t leave this planet. Not with the censure in place, and she certainly wasn’t powerful enough to break free, she wouldn’t be for many thousands of years.

Hecate drummed her fingers against her red lips. “If there is no more Zenov, then I should bury this part of the world with the last of his descendants. Maybe starting over would be best.”

***

After finishing with the plans in Hidavente, Hecate left the kingdom, moving through a world of shadows to The Red Steps of Garrish. The kingdom was beautiful, rich with resources and several red stumps of bedrock poked above the rest. These great plateaus were the heart of Garrish.

On one, sat the great city in the sky. Lume.

She stepped out from behind Martin. The man had become so swallow and pale. “You are over exerting yourself.”

“Master!” The man practically threw himself out of his throne. “You’ve been gone so long. I feared you’d never return. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” A group of a dozen men said in the same empty tone.

There was no life in them. Their souls were cracked and Martin had used his to fill the gaps. Yet another example of power corrupting absolutely.

Every time.

It made Hecate’s nose wrinkle as if a foul stench filled the room.

“Master. Please you must help me. I need more strength. You taught me to control my soul, but now I need more. I need more soul.” Martin’s hands clenched and unclenched.

The motion was mimicked a moment later by the rest of his ‘council’.

“It’s always more. With every one of you. First you want a little, but you consume it quickly.”

Martin rose from where he’d been kneeling, he wasn’t a short man, but he wasn’t overbearingly tall as he rose to look Hecate in the eyes. “Of course. That’s the nature of man. Avarice is no a sin! It is a very core part of being alive. To continue to want to survive and thrive.

“Look around you Master! These halls, the city that stands atop a plateau. Those are things that only exist because someone wanted more. From the gorgeous dresses you wear to the pleasant wine you drink. Someone made those, someone made them better than the person before them because they wanted more.

“Humanity rose above the beasts because they had the ambition to reach for the stars to stop living like animals and wallowing in the mud, to be dry, to be fat and to be happy. So we built, we created and we have ever craved more because is that that very same avarice that pulled us from the mud.

“It’s the same thing that pushes us to innovate, to develop new magic, new metals so that we can conquer, but when that is all done those same innovations are turned into better plows better healing once the war is over.”

Hecate wrinkled her nose. “When is it enough?”

“Never.” Martin grinned. “That’s the beauty. This splendor around you that you enjoy exists because humanity has always said ‘I will not settle’. They strove for more, for better and in turn you now reap the rewards. Yet you want to look down on us for it. Pretend that you are above it, free from the filth of humanity. You aren’t Master or you would have left by now.”

His eyes shown with manic furor. He believed every word that he said.

Yet to Hecate she saw what lay beyond that mentality, to the eventual destruction and ruin that would follow it. One day. Maybe not today, maybe not even in Martin’s lifetime.

Eventually, it would destroy everything he built.

“I will not give you more. If you are so innovative, then figure it out yourself.” Hecate’s voice held a chill to it. A warning.

Martin stepped back. “Then we are done here. I must return to the council and plan. The war is looking up. We’ve had several successful campaigns in the south and it’s time to surprise them with our newest innovation. Watch, dear master, what humanity is capable of.”

There was no reason to be here.

She stepped into the shadows once again, but not out of them.

Instead, lingering the shadows as she sensed Zenov’s descendant fighting with Valerian.

The anchor Emlyn, skewered Valerian and made Hecate smile. Yet another example of humans that take and take. He and Martin really were united in their views in some ways.

Valerian didn’t deserve a simple ending. No, his family had killed Zenov’s descendants and she wouldn’t let him go so easily.

Twisting and pushing she revived the monstrous seeds in him and the others she planted them in before all of this began.

How will this young mage Arden react?

He fought along side his anchor, working well together.

Ultimately, he was stronger than Valerian. That should come as no surprise. His gift for magic was potent indeed.

He moved quickly, healing those who needed it.

Hecate liked to think that Zenov would have used his magic for healing. It was a noble cause.

So when Arden left to heal those that she had entangled, she watched what he’d do.

To her utter shock she found him just throwing magic around like a battering ram. No finesse, none of the magical knowledge she had seen the rest of Zenov’s descendants use over the years.

He was truly starting anew.

She pondered and so when he reached his soul into the mess, she let hers tangle with him. Hecate wanted to know him.

He jerked back from her, shocked at what he found.

That only made Hecate smile, could she latch onto him, pull his soul down into the same state as the others?

Yet she found a man more concerned with healing than dealing death. More concerned with building out of stone and ice than burning with fire and lightning.

A man who reminded her much of Zenov had. Only in a strange way, the man didn’t want the power that he head.

She had missed Zenov’s rise, his use of his power.

Hecate pondered that for a moment. What would he do with his powers, would he become corrupt like all the others? She was awake now and she could watch.

For right now, the greatest concern in his mind was keeping those he cared for safe.

So rather than entangle him, her soul bindings pulled back, leaving a mark on him so that she could follow him, understand how power corrupted men.

She could step back and destroy Martin, allow the world to return to peace and him to grow first.

But more often than not, you saw who someone truly was amid the chaos. That’s what was coming. All three of these kingdoms were going to be plunged into it by Martin and she would allow it. If Arden survived, she wondered what he would make from the ashes.

Maybe… she needed to watch him more closely.