STORIES OF SKYRIE VOLUTIUN DOMINUS

The Well of Shadow

Part Six - The Cliffs of Blood


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It may not be reproduced in any form whatsoever without the permission of the author.


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My strength returned quickly. I had always intended for Alexiun to escape with me. I simply had no other way to open the portals so that one of us might reach the outside. But free as I was, It was a simple matter to use the power I had stolen from the Emerald Sorcerer to carve a mask apiece, one for Lostra and one for Alexiun, and with the masks, summon them to me. Alexiun would not easily believe this had always been my desire, but we were not permitted the luxury of much debate, for it seemed the entire Citadel had turned out to pursue us.

Yet, as we fled, between bloody skirmishes against a seemingly endless onslaught of soldiers bent on our destruction, I finally learned of the powers of the Well. Sorcery to be used in worlds beyond those I knew. Powers to cast the lifeforce from one being and into another; even into the bodies of the dead. And for the greatest of initiates, the power to dissolve into a pure form of Shadow, of Life energy, of pure will.

And too, I learned of the many worlds, far beyond Icantoka and the Silver Sea, opening from the Infinite Citadel, and as I learned, I understood my destiny.


Wind lashed the grass around our feet. Thick, long grass, tying itself in knots around our ankles. Dark grey blasts of cloud curled overhead, ripped an torn by the gale. High above, dancing with the swirling sky, the black silhouette of some great bird turned and wheeled, and split even the howl of he wind with its screeches.

"We should have got some horses," wailed Lostra, having the worst of it.

Spots of rain began to fall. My own spells were long gone, burned in battle against the guards from the citadel who still pursued us. Alexiun alone remained immune to the weather.

"It will slow the soldiers down," he said.

"Without horses to speed us, they will still catch us when they find our trail again. And they will surely know where we are headed."

Alexiun nodded. "To our advantage. Perhaps they will let the Well have us." He glanced at Lostra, and I understood. They would follow us - Alexiun was sure. But kinder for Lostra not to know.

"If this Well is the source of power for the sorcerers of your Empire, would this not imply that the Death Pirates are servants to one of them?"

He shrugged. "I cannot say. I would not expect the Emperor's sorcerers to engage in such petty commerce. But I had not expected to find the Emperor to be an empty mask. I no longer know what I should believe."

Lostra shook his head. "It cannot be. We have traded with the Empire for a thousand years. It is an ancient tradition. I cannot see why anyone would wish to break it."

"Indeed. But the Well, although the Infinite Citadel surrounds it, does not belong to the Empire. If anything, the Empire belongs to the Well. We do not guard it for it guards itself. It is there for anyone who is strong enough to master it."

"Is it far?"

Alexiun chuckled. "It may be. The paths to the Well shift and change."

"But you know them, yes?"

"As well as any."

A sudden light grew around us, the sun, piercing a rent in the clouds, and as we climbed towards the brow of the next hill, the clouds began to fail against the wind. Other spots of sunlight burst through, widening into cascading golden curtains. Stones began to appear among the grass under our feet, and here and there, slabs of rock, streaked with a deep red moss, the colour of drying blood. Elsewhere, the ground grew spongy and damp.

"We are close," said Alexiun.

"And then?"

"You will see. I have done as I said. I cannot help you further."

"You would prefer to remain and face your Emperor's assassins?"

"So close to the Well, I suspect they will prefer to avoid such an engagement." He smirked and flexed his fingers, and sparks of darkness flew into the air.

"And Lostra? What of him?"

Alexiun nodded. "I will protect him."

As he spoke, we crested a final rise, and the wind almost lifted from my teetering feet. I steadied myself, dropping one knee to brace myself against the blast, and gasped...

The lake spread out a mile or more beneath my feet, glittering in the speckled sunshine, perhaps five miles across, and spreading towards the sun as far as I could see. And all around, a sheer cliff of grey rock surrounded it, scarred by torrents of blood-moss, their bleeding frozen in time. In the midst of the lake, an island, and in the midst of the island... something. I could not tell - a construction of some sort, yet at its pinnacle shone a white light, so bright it washed all around it away, and lit up the bloody cliffs with an eerie glow.

I stared down at the island.

Alexiun nodded.

I made to summon the last of my spells to transport me there, but Alexiun stayed my hand.

"It won't work."

"What? Why?"

"It is the Well. It is a greater power. You cannot use sorcery here unless it is the sorcery of the Well."

I stared at him, and the flickers of darkness dancing from his fingertips. "Then you have been here before."

"I have attuned to the power of the Well, yes."

"Then send me there."

He shook his head. "I will not. I told you I knew where the Well was to be found, and I would lead you as far as I could. I have no spell to transport you across such a distance, nor do I have time to create one. But if I did, if I could, I would not. It is for each sorcerer to find their own way to the Well."

"And if one of those ways were to involve threatening the life of one who had already been?"

Alexiun shrugged. "The Well does not discriminate. All who reach it may try their luck. They will attune, or, if they are not powerful enough, they will die. Most are brought by those of us who have gone before, when we believe the time is right and they will master the Well. But I would say, to your question, that I am at my strongest here. My power is at its zenith. While one who is not attuned would have no power at all. Such a one would be in no position to make such threats."

"Such a one may still find a sword sharper and faster than any spell."

He nodded. "True. But it is of no consequence. Whether I will it or not, I have no spell prepared that would help you."

"You knew."

He nodded again. "It seemed the easiest way for us to continue without an unpleasantness we would both regret."

"One of us would regret."

"As you say. I do believe you will find a way, Skyrie. You have survived the Prison of Souls and escaped the Infinite Citadel. You have brought me from there to here. Even with all my powers, I could not do that. Will you not simply draw a picture?"

"I cannot see what I am to draw. The light is too bright. I must see it clearly."

Alexiun sat down, his back to the cliff, staring out across the windswept slopes. "You will find a way. Or the soldiers will come, and they will kill you."

"And if you have no spell to whisk us away, how will you survive?"

"I do not expect to. You will find a way, and you will master the Well, and you will save us from the hands of the soldiers before my spells are exhausted."

"Don't be sure."

He smiled and shook his head. "So much anger, Skyrie Volutiun. I have faith in you. Besides, it will occur to you how much I must know about this power, and how much more quickly you would understand its extent and nuances were you to have a tutor."

He turned away.

I stared down the cliff face.


I wonder, sometimes, does Alexiun understand how close he came to being cast down the cliff face that day, as he sat in patient meditation and I paced in ever growing frustration, seeking key to unlock the Well from where we stood, and use my spell to take me to it. Yet I could find nothing. The Well radiated its own reality out around it, implacable and irresistible.

I could have dived myself. I nearly did. Only then did I see what had been staring me in the face from Alexiun's words.


The content of this page is © copyright Stephen Deas 2001 and is used here with permission.
It may not be reproduced in any form whatsoever without the permission of the author.


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