On Ilithir only the great and the grand move up in society, and Maron had decided long ago that he would climb to the top or die trying. Luckily for Maron, he was born quite skilled. Skilled enough to carry himself swiftly up the ranks of Ilithirian society and almost overcome his low birth. Almost.
It was that word which haunted his dreams, almost. It reminded him of the one inadequacy he could never overcome. The woman he came out of. In Ilithir, that was the most important aspect of a person’s life, the woman they came out of. Women dominated society, they ruled in the council, led worship, governed the planet, and administered the law. The part a woman played in this world determined her status, and the status of her family, of her children.
Maron’s mother was a common laborer. She had no affiliation with any of the major families, no high standing in the church, and no real discernable skills. In the eyes of society, she was little better than a man, fit for nothing but hard labor and menial tasks. What was worse, she lacked ambition.
This made Maron’s mother one of a kind on Ilithir. It was nearly unheard of for an Ilithirian to lack ambition and it wasn’t where the woman’s strangeness ended. She held no interest in the viciousness of their society and never turned her nose up at any of the men she lived beside, or the sorry creatures Ilithirians kept as slaves. Maron thought she was a kind person, but he didn’t know for sure because he had never experienced kindness from anywhere else in Nizea, and he doubted he ever would.
From this realization Maron developed his own strangeness in the form of familial love, something even more unheard of than a lack of ambition. He possessed a deep-seated pride in his chest for his mother and for the man he was and wished to become, this pride gave him strength. This was what he believed in, his way of life. It was also the reason he had thrown in his lot with a young Ashara Demora in the hopes of becoming something greater, an honored sire of a noble family, or at the very least a war master.
The little Princess had eyed him up and down following his graduation from the Kennel and decided she must have him. Shortly after his return home he received a formal summons from the Demora family. After arriving at the family’s palace, he endured a grueling month of lengthy interrogations, tests of physical strength, and even a few challenges from jealous Demora soldiers. He overcame each obstacle and was rewarded with a spot in Princess Ashara’s own personal guard.
Years and years of hard work and Maron had finally done it, or so he thought. The reality was that he’d been pulled onto a sinking ship, and its captain was Ashara. The Princess easily had the lowest position of any of the women in the noble family and as such suffered constant challenges and attacks, both from within and without. The constant day to day struggle of serving the Princess easily dwarfed any of the hardships Maron faced training in the Kennels or living in the slums. His food was constantly poisoned, his patrols were constantly harassed, and on top of all of that, his status as a commoner was always in contention at the palace. It was a wonder he ever survived the first few months in the Demora stronghold, never mind four whole years.
Recently, things were reaching a fever pitch in the palace as the sibling rivalries grew fiercer and fiercer. The attacks on Ashara’s life had become more brazen, and as such Maron had ended up spending significantly more time with the Princess in order to keep her safe. Beside and behind the little woman was now where Maron spent most of his time, and recently the princess had been spending more and more time with her father, likely in hopes of currying favor with the powerful consort.
Maron couldn’t complain, aside from the obvious benefit of having her father’s support, it was awe inspiring to see a male hold such power in a noble family, especially one who married into it. It inspired Maron, as well as made him jealous, the consort had everything Maron lacked. A born magician, a noble upbringing, and a face handsome enough to catch the first Princess’s eye.
“My time will come,” Maron muttered to himself as he and Ashara travelled to the Hand, where her father and the other powerful mages worked.
“What was that Maron?” asked Ashara, her eyes still on the path before them as they hurried along the city’s busy streets.
“Nothing Princess. My apologies.” Maron said quickly, embarrassed that he had spoken his thoughts aloud. Luckily, it was too noisy for Ashara to have heard his little musing, she surely would have chided him for it otherwise.
“Focus, fool. We could be attacked at any moment.” Ashara said brusquely.
Not likely, Maron thought to himself. They were disguised as common soldiers, indistinguishable from the crowds of regular folk milling about the high gardens. Not as low as Maron had been in his childhood, but low enough that Ashara turned her nose up at the idea of disguising herself as one of them when Maron first brought it up. A few crossbow bolts and the odd laser from a line gun quickly changed her mind on the subject, and they had successfully maneuvered their way from the Demora palace to the Hand countless times since Ashara had begun her quest to curry favor with her father. The ploy’s success had also further cemented Maron’s place as her own personal guardian and he believed if he continued to distinguish himself, he could go even further. Or find himself poached or eliminated by the Princess’s mother, the social ladder in Ilithir was such a perilous thing.
“It’s crowded today, more so than usual.” Ashara mused aloud as they crested a hill that gave way to a large market square completely packed with people.
Ahead of them the five towers of the Hand loomed over the High Garden like the fingers of a wicked god. Likely the architectures intended design.
“Strange, today isn’t a holiday.” Said Maron just as intrigued, and even more suspicious. “We’d best be quick, something unpredictable is bound to happen with this many people around.”
Ashara nodded and they slid and shoved their way through the tight crowd, Maron trying to discern what had so many people in the High Garden as they moved. It seemed everyone was waiting for something, and whatever it was seemed to be in the direction he and Ashara were headed, if the crowd’s gazes were any indication. This further stoked Maron’s suspicions, and he made sure his crossbow and throwing knives were all ready to fly from their sheaths if something happened.
They passed through the high garden without any trouble, save for the odd curse and shove as they moved through the crowd. The pair emerged at a stairwell that took them down to a winding path that led to the back entrance of the tower Ashara’s father worked in. It was late in the night and no moon filled the sky, instead the city’s own lights illuminated the sky, and the Hand’s light was the most oppressive to Maron and Ashara’s eyes. Wicked crimson light seemed to emanate from the jet-black towers, occasionally becoming distorted from some explosion of magic bursting out of one the five towers’ many windows. It made the already imposing structures even more intimidating.
Out of the crowd and with no one else in sight, the two upped their pace and quickly made their way through the small forest that separated the High Garden from the Hand. Occasionally they saw mages heading down some of the other paths in the forest but ignored them. They likely had their own wicked business to conduct and had little care for Ashara and Maron, Princess and protector or not.
“Almost there.” Ashara said quietly as they exited the forest and made their way up the western approach to her father’s tower.
Up close, the towers seemed even bigger than from afar. Tall and wide, each tower was hundreds of feet long each way. Ashara’s father’s tower was covered in ornate gothic carvings and adorned with multiple balconies and nooks for gargoyle sentries and mages to stand guard in. The entrance Ashara and Maron were walking up to was similarly guarded, six sentries stood at the bottom of the stone steps leading up to the tower’s back entrance and two gargoyles sat on ledges set on either side of the entrance.
One of the guards, a mage in black robes and a black helmet with a glowing purple glass visor strode up to Ashara and Maron with his hand outstretched.
“Halt!” he said before examining the pair. He knew who they were, but still had appearances to keep up. “I’ll need to see some proof of identity.”
Ashara produced a medallion with her family’s crest on it, the sleeping visage of one of her noble ancestors, then wordlessly pushed past the guard to the shining entryway behind him. Maron followed swiftly behind, paying the mage no mind as he scowled at the rude Princess. The pair climbed, and floated when the need arose, to the top of the tower in a quarter of an hour. Much of their normal path seemed to be blocked off by some major experiment the mages were conducting. Neither of them was able to get a glimpse at any aspect of what the mages were doing, which seemed to trouble Ashara. She stopped at the door to her father’s chambers, and for a moment allowed anxiety to play across her face. A rare sight on a Ilithirian Princess, at least in the presence of a male.
Maron shifted on his feet, growing nervous at the sight of the Princess seemingly losing her resolve. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she knocked on the door twice and pushed it open. The pair filtered into the mage’s personal quarters and found Ashara’s father standing over a large scrying pool set into the floor, a new addition since Maron and Ashara’s last visit. He looked up from the pitch-black pool and smiled at Ashara, while completely ignoring Maron’s presence.
“Hello my daughter!” Ashara’s father said, bowing his head.
Ashara rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, tilting her head back so her cowl fell from her head revealing the long flowing white hair beneath it. “It is Princess or Lady Ashara, Phraum.”
“Oh, don’t be that way!” Phraum retorted waving his hand. Suddenly he was in front of Ashara ruffling the girl’s hair.
Ashara jumped and Maron nearly left his own skin in surprise. The mage gave Maron a knowing look as the bodyguard reached for his crossbow, stopping the young man cold. Maron knew immidealty if he drew his weapon, it would be the last thing he ever did.
“Phraum! Phraum! Father!” Ashara batted at the mage’s hand until he ceased his ministrations and chuckled.
“Trouble with the sisters again?” Phraum mused as Ashara began to fix her hair.
“And perhaps a few brothers as well, it seems everyone wants a go at me these days, it is getting tiresome.” Ashara replied.
“Hence this visit, and all the others.” Phraum moved away from Ashara and returned to the edge of his scrying pool, staring down into its pitch-black surface.
“What is this? It wasn’t here the last time I visited.” Ashara said following her father’s gaze into the pool.
“I... don’t really know actually!” The mage said with a shrug. “Something I stumbled upon in my studies, supposedly it has something to do with seeing something, but I haven’t the slightest clue what.”
Ashara gave the mage a haughty look and rolled her eyes. “Either you’re lying, or you’ve spent too much time in this tower alone Phraum, that sounds ridiculous.”
The mage shrugged again with his hands opened in a gesture of obeisance. “Perhaps you’re right. But you also might be wrong, and this thing could be very valuable. Time will tell.”
“Indeed.” Ashara said, clearly unamused with her father’s response. “Anyways, I was hoping you could tell me the current standings, who amongst my siblings has the most of my mother’s favor.”
Phraum turned his gaze from the scrying pool, a look of exaggerated surprise on his face. “Ashara! You mean to tell me you aren’t your mother’s favorite? How could this be!”
Ashara’s tongue quickly flicked across her teeth in annoyance, and her lips curled into a scowl. Maron thought the Princess was going to explode on her father, but the tirade never came. Ashara let out a sigh and awaited her father’s reply. This is a powerful man, Maron thought. It was rare for a male to hold enough status to cause a Princess to hold her tongue, even if that Princess was his daughter.
“Well to state the obvious you’re mother cares little for you.” Phraum said offhandedly, turning his gaze back down into the scrying pool. “The three currently trying to kill you are Kara, Feyan, and Dyra. They seem convinced doing so will supplant your eldest sister Ameena and perhaps they are correct.”
“I suspected as much.” Said Ashara with a heavy sigh. “But its always worthwhile to put specific names to your aggressors. Thank you Phraum.”
“Hardly something to thank someone over,” said Phraum turning his eyes back to his daughter. “Knowing doesn’t necessarily help, especially since you already suspected your siblings. Nay, expected it from them.”
Ashara raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are you offering to get involved on my behalf?”
“Well, you are my favorite.” Phraum said, a wicked grin forming on his face. “And I have no love for your mother’s other children, for those I haven’t sired.”
“That’s blatant treason, Phraum.” Ashara said, folding her hands behind her back. She began to pace the area of the scrying pool, a look of intrigue on her face. “But then, we sisters aren’t supposed to conspire against each other in groups, so I suppose it’s only fair I call upon my own allies.”
“Oh, darling this will hardly be fair.” Phraum said after releasing a wicked laugh.
Ashara smiled, and Maron found himself smiling as well. It was always a joy to partake in a conspiracy, the fact that the conspiracy was against those within their own house made it all the sweeter.
“So, what’s the plan, father.” Ashara said stopping across the scrying pool from Phraum.
“You will acquire something for me,” Phraum began. “Something I wouldn’t normally be able to get, because I am a man you see. An artifact from the Styria family temple.”
“I won’t be committing heresy, will I?” Ashara asked quickly, her eyes darting around the room in search of anyone listening in on their conversation.
“No child, worry not.” Phraum replied. “This artifact has nothing to do with our Dark Lady, it is an old piece of machinery, from our war with the humans.”
Ashara nodded, seemingly reassured. “A living machine? Or perhaps a piece of hardware for that pet you keep?”
Phraum smiled sinisterly at his daughter, his ruby red eyes smoldering. “It isn’t a pet nor is this item I seek a simple piece of hardware.” Phraum said calmly, in stark contrast to the intimidating aura he began to exude. “It will be the key to our success, to your survival.”
Ashara nodded, avoiding her father’s now intense gaze. “So, you say.” The Princess put a finger to her lip and paced back and forth across from her father. “How will I sneak into the Styrian temple? First Princess Corellia keeps a clean house. The presence of a rival Princess, though significantly lower on the ladder, will surely be noticed.”
“You will find that tomorrow night the Styrian family will be very preoccupied. When the time comes, I will give you the disguises and equipment you need to breach into the temple and fool all of their security measures. Until then,” Phraum reached into his pocket and tossed Maron a small purple crystal ball. “Study that. It’s a comprehensive map of the Styrian temple and the surrounding complexes. I’m sure you and your confidant there will come up with a way to find what I’m looking for. Which, by the way, is sealed in a vault down in the basement of the temple, behind a secret passage I have outlined within the map.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Maron opened his mind to the crystal ball and saw within its purple surface the map Phraum spoke of. It had outlines of each of the temple’s rooms, important points of interest where sentries were stationed, as well as detailed notes on activity within the temple.
“Is it satisfactory, boy?” Phraum called from his spot beside the scrying pool, his lips still curled in a wicked grin.
Embarrassed, Maron bowed his head and nodded.
“Good. I suppose that concludes our business, Princess.” Phraum turned to Ashara and gave her a smile and a bow.
“I hope to hear from you soon.” Said Ashara turning from her father and striding towards the entrance to his quarters.
Maron quickly followed the Princess, taking one last look at the mages laboratory before hurrying out of the black metal doors the led out into the hallway. Ashara was waiting down the hall, her eyes on one of the statues adorning the passage’s wall. It was a carving of a humanoid creature with fangs and bat-like wings, nothing that would normally interest the Princess, Maron knew. She was considering her options, leveling out if carrying out her father’s mission was worth it. Robbing a rival family’s temple was no small task, the fact that the temple belonged to the most powerful family in the city made the task much more daunting.
Ashara sighed, having found her conclusion, and motioned for Maron to follow her down the winding staircase that led down into the tower’s lower levels.
“Take good care of that crystal, we shall study it later tonight. I’ll call you to my quarters a little after midnight to review it.” Ashara whispered as they descended the stairs.
“As you wish Princess.” Maron replied.
The pair made their way down the tower and out into the paths beneath the Hand and travelled back through the forest towards the Demora palace, this time avoiding the crowded high garden in favor of a safer route.
“That was strange.” Ashara said when they found themselves alone on an empty backstreet. She paused and examined their surroundings, then leaned against the black brick wall of a three-story apartment complex.
Maron shifted on his feet unsure of what to say, but Ashara’s waiting look told him he needed to say something. “Yes, the High Garden and the Hand being so busy this time of year is strange.”
“I was thinking the same thing, and perhaps all of it has something to do with my recent troubles as well.” Ashara replied. “Some greater turmoil sweeping through all the families. If we had more time we could try and spy on the other towers and figure out if the other mages are up to something.”
Maron turned his chin up inquisitively. “You think the mages are up to something as well? At the hand and not in their own palaces?”
“Well clearly, Phraum seemed comfortable enough using the entirety of his tower on what was most assuredly a personal experiment.” Ashara answered. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the other family mages were doing the same thing.”
Maron nodded, not quite understanding where the Princess was going with her ruminations.
“And that scrying pool, how strange...” The Princess stroked her chin for a moment before pushing off the wall and continuing on her way towards the Demora palace. “I suppose only time will tell. Trying to read Phraum’s actions is like trying to sail through a hurricane, nearly impossible.”
Maron followed the Princess, still worried about their meeting. He had seen the Princess weather through assassination attempts, open challenges, and humiliating defeats without ever losing face. But today he saw her nervous, anxious in the face of her father, anxious in the face of a male.
This does not bode well, Maron thought to himself as he followed the Princess through the gates of the Demora palace. For the first time Maron began to regret his decision to so readily join the Princess’s faction, but it was far too late for him to jump ship now. For better or worse, his fate was tied to Ashara’s.
Midnight came, along with a knock at Ashara’s door. Her most prized possession had arrived as instructed, hopefully with a detailed explanation of how she would infiltrate the Styria family temple.
“Enter.” Ashara said, rising from her desk to meet Maron.
Her bodyguard entered, sheepishly looking around the room before giving Ashara a bow and producing the purple crystal ball Phraum had given him. She smiled at the display; every time the man was summoned into her room his body language grew nervous. It was amusing to see the seasoned warrior who had cut his way to the top of the Kennels shift around on his feet while his eyes darted around the room when he thought Ashara wasn’t looking. His fear made Ashara feel powerful.
“Hand it here.” The Princess ordered, reaching her hand out to her bodyguard.
Maron deposited the crystal ball into her hands and the Princess promptly began to open her mind to it, allowing her energy to flow into it and its energy to flow into her. The crystal’s pristine glassy purple surface grew smoky and began to reveal to her a detailed map of the Styrian temple. Her father had certainly done his research, the Styrians themselves likely lacked a floor plan as detailed as the one Phraum had created!
“Times of worship, sentry movements, clergy schedules, points of interest, room layouts, this map has it all.” Ashara mused in amazement as she went over the crystal’s contents. “I might be able to pull this off.”
“Just you Princess?” Maron asked, a look of worry on his face.
“Yes, outside of the main halls of worship men are forbidden to roam the temple. If you were caught in any of the inner sanctums you and the Demora family would face harsh punishment.” Ashara continued her observations of the map, ignoring Maron’s apologetic nod. “You will however remain nearby the temple, even if Phraum’s plans do not demand it. I need someone I can trust around for this.”
“Thank you, Princess.” Maron said with another bow. Truly, he was the perfect picture of politeness and obedience. Ashara would have to congratulate herself later for getting a hold of him after his graduation. None of the other high noble families seemed to want him. He was a commoner after all.
Ashara finished her observations of the map and allowed the crystal’s magic to fade. She found more than a few potential ways to access the secret passage her father spoke of, but none of them would work without some sort of diversion. Aside from the sentries, who rotated in a manner that left little in the way of infiltration opportunities, there was also the matter of the worshipers. Phraum’s own notes had a priestess or a petitioner in every place Ashara would need to move through in order to gain access to the sanctum in which the secret passage was located.
“At a glance, our mission seems impossible. I see no openings for a quick and discreet theft.” Said Ashara, making a show of placing the crystal into her pocket and tilting her head back in thought. “Were you able to discover anything?”
“I believe so Princess.” Maron replied. “Funnily enough, if there were to be a distraction around eight in the evening then you could sneak into the war sanctum, where the secret passage is located.”
“Right after evening worship.” Ashara said recalling a route her father had traced in his map.
It was the most obvious and least likely route to work, but without standing sentries or worshiping petitioners to impede her progress, Ashara could quickly and quietly enter the war sanctum and leave before anyone was the wiser.
“I’m beginning to understand what that scrying pool was really for.” Ashara said while contemplating Maron’s words. “He must have been spying on that temple for months to get such a detailed layout of the place. What a sly dog.” Ashara let out a wicked laugh at the ingenuity of it all.
“We must hope that his distraction is as ingenious as his map.” Maron said, a smile on his own face.
“Indeed.” Ashara replied.
Ashara felt a wave of relief wash over her as she began to accept her father’s plan. She was skeptical all the way up until Maron had revealed the beginnings of what Ashara believed was a much more thought-out mission. She never questioned if the mage was capable of pulling off such a heist, but had he given her such a task on a whim with no care as to whether or not she succeeded, then her future would have been solely in her hands. Maron’s as well she supposed, but telling the foolish male that wouldn’t help. All Ashara had to worry about now was her place in her father’s plans after the theft of this relic. Hopefully, it was somewhere higher than the lowest Princess in the Demora family, at least until her two other siblings came of age.
“I suppose all that’s left to do is wait until tomorrow.” Said Ashara moving to her bed, a wide oval covered in purple silk sheets. “See yourself out Maron and be sure to get some rest. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“Yes Princess.” Maron said with a bow before quickly scurrying out of her room, sure to close the door softly behind him as he left.
“The perfect knight for the perfect princess...In another life.” Ashara mused to herself with a sardonic laugh. In this life all Maron would ever be good for was service, and perhaps siring a few children if he proved himself more than useful...
Problems for another time, Ashara thought to herself. It was unwise for the lowest Princess to have children on her own whim. They’d either end up in her mother’s clutches or butchered by her rival sisters. No Ashara would have to bide her time and wait, until the opportunity arose to start her own family, on her terms. Phraum’s trinket today, her mother’s throne tomorrow. Ashara shucked off the night gown she was wearing and climbed under the warm silken blankets on her bed. Slowly she drifted off to sleep, offering a prayer to her Goddess to grant her success in the nights to come.
Phraum watched as his daughter safely entered the Demora compound, followed by the soldier she chose to be her shadow. The scrying pool shifted, its surface losing its color until it became black as midnight, devouring all the light that touched its surface. He had hoped the girl would see something as he did through the black portal, but he wasn’t surprised or disappointed. Ashara’s place was in the palace, and Phraum had groomed his eldest son to eventually become a mage. Her lack of magical talent was no loss.
Phraum pressed a button stitched into his left wrist and waited for his most trusted partner to awaken from his hiding place in the laboratory. After a few moments of silence, Phraum felt little clawed feet gently climb up his back until they reached his shoulder. The mage turned his head and found a small silver and blue metallic creature perched on his right shoulder.
“Hello.” It said in his own voice.
“Hello Sizth.” Phraum replied meeting the creature’s blue metallic eyes.
Sizth was a living machine that took the form of a lizard-like creature while it spent its time with Phraum. An old acquaintance from Phraum’s adventures as a young man, the living machine was currently helping him on his current project, unlocking the secret behind advanced Inter-Planar travel.
“Thank you for the information on where I could find the materials to make this, Sizth. It’s been indispensable.” Phraum said, reaching his finger up to the machine to bump fists with. The little metal lizard reached out a paw and gave Phraum’s finger a squeeze.
“Of course, old friend. It amuses me to watch you work.” Sizth had switched into its own voice, a cacophony of deep humming reverberations that vaguely sounded humanoid. “I was honestly surprised you were able to piece together how to create this old thing. I haven’t seen one of its kind used in ages, literally.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy.” Phraum began. “I had to sneak off world and into the rest of the core fairly often to gather the proper research materials. I even had to go into human territory if you could believe it.”
Sizth’s little body shuddered at the mention of humans, the living machine’s greatest enemy.
“How’d you like the human planets? I can assume you didn’t go so far as to touch the Unity, otherwise you surely would not be here today, old friend.”
Phraum laughed and shook his head. Unity was in the deep core of the human’s galactic territory, and no one outside the Unity escaped it after entering. Not even Phraum was daring enough to chance stealing something from within its treacherous confines.
“Hells below, no old friend.” Phraum said with a laugh. “Just a few places an Inter-Planar company ship could take me.”
“Hmm.” Sizth said, thinking. “So, why’d you tell your daughter about your plan? Surely you could take a woman’s form yourself, or convince another agent to conduct the task? Someone more... qualified?”
Phraum let out another chuckle. Indeed, his daughter, along with his son, were the most spoiled in the family. As such their cunning was less than that of the other Azuran’s brought up in this brutal society. It was the reason Ashara had gotten into so much trouble in the first place, and the reason Phraum felt responsible for her safety. That and the fact he wanted his daughter to eventually supplant his mistress as the head of the Demora family, as his puppet.
“The girl must learn how to earn her place in the family.” Phraum said. “Also, I can’t let the girl think I’d be willing to help her for free, she’d never stop asking for help otherwise.”
“Would that not better serve your goals?” Sizth asked.
“Everyone would catch on to what I was doing if I so freely helped my daughter.” Phraum replied. “And that would spell doom for me and my children.”
“I figured.” Said the little metal lizard, tilting its head. “You’re people are strange like that. It never ceases to amaze me how different even the same members of a species can be.”
“Yes, different.” Phraum muttered, he had another word for what the Ilithirians were.
Savage, he thought to himself. A backward society where a wicked mage like him could flourish. Perhaps he would change the way Ilithirian society worked in the future, but for now he was content to remain under the Demora family’s banner serving his own personal interests, and occasionally his mistress’s.
Sizth looked up at Phraum inquisitively, its little head tilting this way and that, its metal irises opening and closing. “You disagree?”
“I’m a wicked man in a wicked world Sizth, and I don’t know any other way.” Phraum answered, turning from the scrying pool.
The mage walked over to the workstation where he had prepared all of the necessary gear for Ashara’s infiltration. For Ashara, he prepared the simple light blue and purple robes of a common worshiper of their Dark Goddess, a cloaking device, a silencing spell, and a shape charge to open up the entrance of the vault the relic was stored in. For Maron, he had acquired a black bodysuit that would adjust to fit to his body, a stronger cloaking device, and a line pistol. He didn’t expect Maron to have to get involved, but if he did, Phraum wanted to ensure he had the upper hand on whatever it was he encountered.
“That’s some advanced stuff, for your people.” The little metal lizard remarked, jumping from Phraum’s shoulder to an open space on the workstation. “That pistol there will pierce anything that isn’t shielded, which is about everything on this planet. You don’t think that’s overkill, old friend?”
“I must make sure my investment is secure old friend.” Phraum answered, taking the pistol in his right hand. An elegant silver gun with a red wooden handle engraved with the Azuran star.
An old and reliable weapon Phraum, had made sure to test it himself in his spare time. It was powered by a crystal cartridge that slid into the back of the pistol’s frame and made to fire using some magnetic mechanism Phraum had little knowledge of. The specifics of line weaponry were tightly guarded secrets only known to select weapons manufacturers and religious leaders high up in Ilithirian society. Its usage was mainly for conflicts with Ilithir’s enemies, but families used them against each other often enough. If Maron did end up having to shoot his way into the temple to rescue Ashara, it wouldn’t be too out of place. Especially with the surprise Phraum had in store...
“Do you think it’ll work old friend? Will our guest cause enough trouble for Ashara to acquire what I desire?” Phraum asked looking down at the little metal lizard.
Sizth looked up at the mage and its metal lizard features curled up into what Phraum could only assume was a smile. “I have no idea. What you’re going to summon, the creature I’ve shown you, is guided by pure chaos. Completely unpredictable, yet able to predict the future. A ridiculous creature that shouldn’t even exist.”
“That is precisely why it must be summoned, and why I must have the artifact.” Phraum said.
The mage set the gun back down on the workstation and headed up a small set of stairs that led to a raised platform in his laboratory. He walked over to a large standing mirror and began to chant an incantation that would activate the magical instrument. He watched as the mirrors’ surface changed from his own reflection into a dark and smoky image, then of one of the rooms lower in the tower. Four mages in black robes and purple visored helmets stood around an incomplete orange flaming summoning circle chanting a dark incantation.
“The mirror’s been activated, master Phraum must be hailing us.” Said a voice from beyond the mirror, muffled and low.
Suddenly a face appeared on the other side of the mirror, a blue-grey skinned male with amber eyes and long silvery hair. One of Phraum’s lieutenants, an accomplished mage in the Demora family’s private army.
“You wish to speak with us master?” the man asked, his face impassive.
“How is the summoning coming along? I trust you all are making ample progress?” Phraum asked.
“Yes sir, the circle is nearly complete, and the teleporter is ready and waiting. We should be finished with our work by tomorrow afternoon if all goes well.” The man replied.
“Good.” Phraum said with a nod. “Be sure to have everything ready to be scrubbed when all is said and done. We wouldn’t want the Ladies on the council to figure out our involvement in the debacle that’s sure to occur tomorrow evening.”
The lieutenant nodded and Phraum allowed the mirror to revert to its normal state, watching as its surface shifted from the summoning room to his own handsome reflection. He took a moment to allow his own ruby red eyes to pierce his gaze before he turned and headed back down to the workstation Sizth was waiting at.
“One last task to handle before I return to my chambers at the Palace.” Phraum said aloud, offering out his arm to Sizth.
The little metal lizard jumped onto the mage’s forearm and climbed up onto his shoulder. Phraum then turned away from the workstation and walked over to the scrying pool.
“Something left to see?” Sizth asked from his perch on Phraum’s left shoulder.
“I figured I might as well do what I said I would and help my daughter. An hour of spying on her sister’s ought to do and then I’ll head off for the night.” Phraum said, focusing his magic energies into the pool to conjure up the images of the three sisters targeting Ashara. “What about you, old friend, have any plans for this evening?”
Sizth shook its head, which made a strange clinking and whirring sound. “Perhaps I’ll do some spying of my own.”
Phraum nodded and watched as the pool’s surface revealed three different images of each of the sisters. Deyan was fast asleep in her chambers, snoring softly under the velvety covers of her bed. Dyra was speaking with her elder sister Ameena and one of her lovers, apparently Ameena had unjustly punished the man and Dyra was angry with her, wondering why she and her lover were even in contact with each other in the first place. Phraum smiled, oh to be young again.
The mage turned finally to the image of Kara. The final sister was walking side by side with whom Phraum recognized as one of the other family mages, Tolor. Phraum muttered a few magic words to ensure his scry was undetected and relaxed when the scrying pool began to glow a faint purple, a sign no one had noticed his spying. The mage leaned forward and began to listen in on the pair’s conversation.
“She’s weaker now than she’s ever been.” Kara was saying. “The time to strike is upon us. I have prepared the necessary assassins; all I need is a mage to seal the deal.”
Tolor licked his lips and furrowed his brow in thought. “This may be true, but Ashara is still a Princess. I don’t think Lady Reina would take too kindly to her mages killing her daughters.”
Kara laughed. “You certainly will not be taking the credit for it, fool. That glory would fall to me.”
Tolor nodded, his face softening. “True. Fine then, I’ll join your team. When am I needed?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Kara discretely handed the mage a sealed letter, the delivery was so good Phraum nearly missed it. “I trust you know what to do.”
Tolor nodded and the two parted ways.
Phraum shook his head and looked over to Sizth. “They so brazenly target my daughter. My, my, whatever am I to do about this?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something old friend.” Sizth said, its metal face curling back up into its strange grin.
Phraum laughed and turned his back on the scrying pool, allowing it to fade back into blackness.
“I think I’ll prepare a few spells for that mage, Tolor.” Phraum said. “A little warning to Maron might help as well. He seems a useful kid, keeping him in Ashara’s good graces doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Everyone would catch on to what I was doing.” Sizth spoke in Phraum’s voice. “Perhaps that is a bit too obvious.” It continued still in his tone.
Phraum let out a hearty laugh, clutching at his stomach. “True, true. I guess I’ll just take all the credit. It never hurts to gain more respect.”
The mage set about finding all the information he could on Tolor before leaving his laboratory. Tomorrow will be quite an interesting day; he thought as he went about his work. A little morning murder, and an evening robbery, the Ilithirian dream.
