Paragon of Destruction

"Those were Demons," Brightblade said. "Nasty things, though they don’t usually venture this close to the Valleys."

"But what are they?" Arran asked again, his expression troubled. "They weren’t like the Remnants. These things... they were intelligent."

He cast a wary look at the rocky path behind them, half expecting to see either Remnants or Demons in the distance. Yet there was no sign of either — if anything had tried to follow them, the formation had clearly stopped it.

Still, he wasn’t fully reassured. The mountains stretched into the distance as far as he could see, and between their snowy peaks and low valleys, he feared there would be something capable of crossing the barrier.

Meanwhile, Brightblade creased her brow as she considered Arran’s question. "Their nature is a matter of much debate and speculation," she said after a moment. "Some say that when mages cast spells, some sliver of intent and intelligence is left in the Essence, and that this gives rise to the Demons. Others believe they are the remains of long-dead mages, reawakened by the infusion of Essence."

"But you don’t believe either of those things," Arran said. The tone of her voice strongly suggested that she thought both theories nonsense.

"I don’t," she confirmed. "But what they really are, and where they came from... I have no answers to those questions. All I know is that they’ve existed within the mountains for as long as the Society has kept records." Her expression softened, and she shrugged. "But they’re no real threat. Not with the Remnants keeping their numbers in check."

Arran frowned. From what he had seen, he had more than a few doubts about the creatures not being a threat. "If they’re intelligent, can’t they escape the mountains?"

Brightblade shook her head. "Formations run along the entire length of the mountains," she explained. "There’s no way for Remnants or Demons to escape on either side of them."

"The entire length of the mountains?" Arran’s eyes went wide with surprise. From north to south, the mountain range extended for a distance that would take years to travel. It seemed almost impossible for there to be formations on such a scale.

"All ten thousand miles," Brightblade confirmed. "In truth, those formations are as important in protecting the Empire as the Valleys themselves. By keeping the Remnants and Demons contained within the mountains, they form a barrier that no army can cross."

"So the creatures protect the Empire..."

Strange though the idea sounded, Arran realized that in a twisted way, it made perfect sense. With the entire mountain range covered by formations, the creatures within were like vicious guard dogs locked in a garden, stopping anyone from crossing their territory.

The thought caused a shiver to run down his spine. Something like this could not be a mere coincidence, but if it was by design, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the power needed to implement so grand a plan.

Brightblade preempted his questions, however. "If you wish, you can study the Society’s history when you return to the Valley," she said. "But right now, you must prepare for the road ahead. You should be able to travel in a few hours’ time, correct?"

Arran nodded reluctantly. His injuries weren’t too bad — nothing a few hours of rest and a quick meal of dragon meat wouldn’t fix. But after all he had just witnessed, having his questions go unanswered caused him no small amount of frustration.

But Brightblade clearly had no intention of providing him with any further answers — not now, at least.

"Excellent," she said. "Then only a few small things remain."

She produced two items from her void bag — a large sheet of paper and an amulet — then handed them both to Arran. He quickly inspected them, and was pleased to see that the sheet of paper was a detailed map of the Ninth Valley’s borderlands. That, at least, would be useful in the years to come.

"I’ve marked a small mountain range on the map," Brightblade said, "It’s about three months’ travel to the southwest, and neither mages nor Hunters travel there frequently. I would suggest you go there for your Shadowflame training."

Arran gave it a thought and nodded. He had not yet given any thought to where he would start his training, and if Brightblade said this place was suitable, he might as well go there.

Moreover, if he was to spend several years training in seclusion, a small mountain range sounded pleasant enough. With his Earth and Stone Realms, it would be a small matter to build a simple house, and he could spend any time he had left after training on hunting and fishing.

He’d had no chance yet to make any plans for his next few years of training, but now that he considered it, he began to think it might not be so bad.

"About two months’ travel northwest of it," Brightblade continued, "you will find the battlefield where Elder Nikias fell. Once you learn Shadowflame, you can travel there and search for his writings on the Forms — if they are still present."

She furrowed her brow, then added, "But I urge you to study the seals and wards in the books I gave you, first. The battlefield lies at the edge of the Hunters’ lands, and you should find them most useful."

Arran nodded again. He still had little idea of how he was going to infiltrate the Hunters’ lands, but that any concealment wards he could learn would help him was obvious.

"What about the amulet?" he asked, giving it a brief glance. It was made of smooth black stone, and he could detect no seals or enchantments on it.

"It’s linked to another which I have in my possession," Brightblade replied. "If either of the amulets is broken, the other will instantly change color to a deep crimson, no matter the distance." She looked at Arran with narrowed eyes, then continued, "If the one I gave you changes color, you are to return to the Valley without delay. And if you break yours, I will take it as a sign that the Hunters are close to attacking the Valley."

"All right," Arran said. Some part of him had expected that breaking his amulet would be a sign that he needed rescue, but then, he realized that there would be no rescue where he was going. Once he entered the Hunters’ lands, he would be on his own.

"There’s one final thing," Brightblade said.

Arran looked at her inquisitively. "What is it?"

"Do not reveal that you’re a mage," she said. "Not even to other mages, while you’re still in the borderlands. Before you leave here, put on some of the clothes I gave you, and keep all your Realms but Shadow sealed."

Arran looked at her in confusion, brow creased in a frown. "Is so much secrecy really necessary?"

"It is," Brightblade said in a firm voice. "There’s something Rhea is hiding from us, and although I don’t know what it is, it is almost certainly related to the Hunters. Do not assume that other mages are your allies — there may still be traitors among us."

"If you don’t trust the Matriarch, why did you tell her your plans for me?" Arran asked. He remembered distinctly that Brightblade had told him the Matriarch had agreed to his secluded training.

"I told her you were going into training," Brightblade replied. "And that afterward, you planned to retrieve Elder Nikias’s writings. She doesn’t know that you will travel into the Hunters’ lands, nor do I intend for her to find out."

Arran gave Brightblade a flat stare. "I think she might suspect something when I remain gone for years longer than she expects."

"Not at all," Brightblade said, some of her old cheerfulness now returning. "Learning Shadowflame often takes mages a decade or longer. You, however, will master it in two. That will give you years to explore the Hunters’ lands, long before anyone suspects a thing."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Arran asked, looking at Brightblade in bewilderment.

"Hard work," she said, a big grin appearing on her face. "Now, good luck on your travels, and—"

"Wait!" Arran interrupted her.

"What is it?" Brightblade asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You haven’t yet removed the seal from my void ring," Arran said, some small part of him once more wondering how she had ever become an Archmage.

"I suppose you’ll need that," she said. "Give me a moment." She quickly removed the seal, then glanced at the path behind them. "But it’s time for me to get on my way."

"You’re going back there?" Arran asked, eyes wide with surprise. "Even with the Remnants around?"

Brightblade shrugged. "Without having you to protect, I can move a lot faster. I doubt they’ll be able to catch up with me." Her eyes turned pensive, and she added, "And there are some things I have to investigate."

Just a few minutes later she was gone, returned to the mountains they had fled barely half an hour earlier. Had it been someone else, Arran would have worried. But with Brightblade, he had little doubt of her ability to handle whatever threats she would encounter.

Moreover, he had other things to think about. Though there were some months of travel ahead, in truth, his secluded training had already begun. And somehow, he would have to find a way to master the Shadowflame spell — a task he still had no idea of how to accomplish.

He sighed, then produced a haunch of dried dragon meat from his void ring. And as he chewed the tough meat, he wondered what lay ahead in the years to come.