He had to escape. Every second he remained in Veltraxis increased the chances that they would kill him. He moved through the dark streets; the streetlamps had gone out long ago. Even so, he could clearly hear the footsteps of the guard's soldiers… and the hunters.
He had walked straight into the lion's den for a pitiful reward. He carried the sack of Camellium stuffed with everything he could manage as he turned left, slipping between a pair of houses.
It had been a simple job: pass through the outer districts, buy the Camellium, and get out with the goods. There shouldn't have been any trouble. But the damned vendor had turned out to be a guard spy. They had seen him buying the Camellium.
He stopped short and leapt onto a stack of trash bins, scrambling up the walls while clinging to windows and an improvised ladder used by those who maintained the buildings.
He climbed onto the roof and dropped down beside a balcony. Pressing himself against the wall, he prayed they wouldn't find him. Then he heard the growls.
The hunters—hounds with four crimson eyes and elongated maws—advanced through half-built walls and the trash the outer-district folk left behind. They snarled and sniffed the air. Behind them marched the guard: men in gleaming armor, hollow-eyed, and among them the commanding figure of the guard itself—Kaeldric. He couldn't have been more unlucky. One of the most dangerous men in the city was right there.
The young mage exhaled on the balcony, glancing at the bag he carried. A good number of vials filled with greenish powder cast a pale glow over his face. Camellium—the power source of every mage. He looked at his forearm, where his gift from Hen Chemon rested, golden and carved with runes. Okay, I can do it. The only solution he could imagine was using the mineral.
Kaeldric scanned both sides, removing his helmet to focus better.
"Could he have escaped?" one of them asked curiously, rummaging through trash bags.
"Impossible. It's a dead end," another replied, teeth clenched in frustration.
Kaeldric kept watching carefully. The mage took one of the vials and, as silently as he could, uncorked the Camellium. At that instant, Kaeldric struck the wall with his sword; the mage's nerves snapped, and the vial slipped from his fingers, tumbling over the railing.
The soldiers' eyes widened in terror as the greenish vial fell before them. They tried to shield themselves as quickly as possible before the glass hit the ground.
An explosion shook the place like a firework, hurling the soldiers into the walls and leaving them with bruises they would remember the next day. Kaeldric barely flinched: he wrapped himself in his cloak, weathered the blast, then brushed a few fragments of Camellium from his shoulder.
The mage stared, stunned. Even if it had been accidental, the Camellium should have killed them. Instead, the guards were getting back up, only slightly dazed.
"Diluted Camellium… if I'd consumed it, it would have—" he murmured.
He looked at the bag full of bottles, which must have been altered the same way. Still, he knew it was better than nothing, so he began to run across the balconies. Kaeldric watched him directly as he fled.
"Well, boss…" one of the men tried, shaking greenish powder from his armor. "Now what?"
Kaeldric growled, sprinted to the wall, and with ridiculous agility scaled it to reach the roof.
"I'll follow him from here. Those with hounds, keep after him on the ground. Those without—find that idiot Aedran," Kaeldric ordered as he turned and began running after the mage, who stumbled while leaping between balcony railings.
The mage was breathing hard. The street ended—and so did the buildings with usable balconies. He jumped and climbed onto a rooftop, only to see the relentless Kaeldric right on his heels.
He broke into a sprint, hitched up his sleeve, and looked at the markings on his bracer. He began to chant unintelligible words, and special runes rose from the artifact. Kaeldric saw it just in time to leap aside when the young mage hurled a seal onto the ground. The mage threw several more at random, trying to confuse him, but Kaeldric simply dodged them and pressed on, showing not a trace of fear.
The mage considered dropping down, but immediately sensed the hounds. He charged a seal with all his focus and slammed it into the ground. The hounds and the soldiers guiding them couldn't react in time; they stepped onto the seals, and a strange energy froze them instantly, dropping them with a dull thud.
The mage laughed and jumped down, landing in a roll. He looked up just in time to see Kaeldric descending behind him.
"In the air you can't dodge, can you?" he taunted, hurling another seal that struck Kaeldric square in the chest.
A surge of energy hurled him into the wall. Kaeldric tried to rise as the house lights flicked on in alarm. Seizing the confusion, the mage cast two more seals: the first struck Kaeldric's hand—a binding spell that would prevent him from releasing his weapon—and the second hit the guard leader's sword itself, making it weigh a ton and pinning him to the ground.
The mage sighed in relief and smoothed back his hair.
"Wow. That was close, wasn't it?" the mage said with a restrained laugh. Kaeldric shot him a murderous glare. "Next time, remember that mages are superior to you—humans without channels."
The mage hopped from side to side, celebrating his victory over one of the most feared men in the guard. He glanced at the Camellium.
"You know, it's funny. I didn't even pay for this, and they still gave me a huge amount of Camellium—for me and my group," he said enthusiastically, pulling a small pouch from his pocket that jingled pleasantly. "Thanks. Now I can spend the money on liquor and turn in my job. You're the best, guard."
"Aren't you declaring victory a little too soon?" Kaeldric asked, his expression unreadable. "Or are you stupid enough not to understand that a fugitive should run?"
The mage let out an amused groan, looking at him with mockery.
"I already beat you. Who else could possibly—?" He cut himself off abruptly. A single step—dry and deliberate—froze the air.
His spine prickled with terror at the familiar sound of that cursed mineral swaying. Similar to metal, but deeper, slower. Irregular, heavy footsteps, accompanied by a careless whistle drifting through the alleyways.
Kaeldric turned toward the source of the noise with an annoyed expression and released a resigned sigh. He knew that idiot would never let him forget that he couldn't handle a level-one mage on his own.
The mage spun around, and through the mist emerged the least imposing figure he could have imagined: a guard's armor, stained and dull; a cloak dragging lazily along the ground due to a hunched posture; and a sword spinning in his hand with surgical precision—never high enough to lose its sound, never low enough to scrape the ground.
The mage stared at him, eyes wide. Aedran sighed in boredom and glanced at Kaeldric, offering him a mocking smile.
"Wow… the office is going to love this," Aedran said, wishing he had some way to preserve the moment forever.
Then he turned his gaze to the mage, assessing him.
"Seal magic," he murmured flatly. "Not bad. But your level…"
The mage hurled a seal without thinking. Aedran simply slashed through the attack, shredding the spell with ease. His black sword and the golden markings running along it vibrated on impact. The mage froze.
"How can you—?"
He didn't get to finish. In an instant, Aedran stomped forward and charged. The mage threw three seals: one at the ground, hoping Aedran would jump so he could use the same trick he had on Kaeldric. Aedran leapt, avoided the one that detonated below, and with a barely perceptible hum destroyed the other two without suffering any effect.
The mage barely managed to raise his hand when Aedran reached him and, with a single sweeping strike, severed his arm—bracer and all. Blood sprayed as the mage screamed in pain. Aedran swept his leg out from under him and finished it with an elbow to the face. The young mage slammed into the ground, unconscious.
Aedran straightened.
"Ah. Another idiot who doesn't know how to use seals. Anyway…" he said, sheathing his sword with boredom as the remaining guards arrived, staring at him with a mix of shock and wariness.
He removed his helmet, letting silver hair fall over his unnatural crimson eyes. Dark lines marked his neck and jaw. He tried to stretch his back as the guards gathered around.
"Well, tomorrow's my day off, and I know a place where the booze and the whores are cheap," he said with a grin, looking at Kaeldric. Kaeldric returned an irritated stare while waiting for the seal's effect to fade and ordering the guards to keep the mage from bleeding out.
"You know we have to deal with this terrorist, right?" Kaeldric asked, raising an eyebrow. One of the guards searched the mage's clothes and pulled out a white paper marked with a red seal.
"I see…" Aedran murmured, lowering his gaze. "So you're not coming, then?"
End of the Prologue