Imperial wizard 4 the so.., p.1
Imperial Wizard 4: The Southern Alliance, page 1
Imperial Wizard 4
The Southern Alliance
Arcane Awakening
Book 4
J. Parsons
Copyright © 2024 by J. Parsons
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
About Royal Guard Publishing
Chapter One
Verdan Blacke, Wizard of the Grym Imperium, ran his gaze over the papers strewn across his desk and sighed as he rubbed at his tired eyes. This wasn’t even his home, yet somehow, he was still stuck doing paperwork.
Leaning back in his chair, Verdan thought back to the start of all this. Roughly two years ago he’d woken up in his sealed cave, finally released from his self-inflicted stasis and free from Gloria’s death curse.
He hadn’t known it then, but he’d slept away thousands of years in that cave. Everyone and everything he’d known was gone. The Grym Imperium, which had been caught in the throes of a messy civil war, was lost and forgotten.
It wasn’t the punishment Gloria had intended when she cursed him. No, her curse had been far more direct; ever-increasing pain.
The memory of that pain was dull now, muted by time and experience, but Verdan could still taste the desperation of those dark days. His teacher had toiled tirelessly alongside him, first to remove the curse, and then to develop the spell needed to put him into stasis when they couldn’t remove it.
Verdan picked up the glass of deep amber liquid that sat next to him and sipped it contemplatively. It had taken him time to deal with everything he’d lost in coming to this new time, this new place.
Now, though, things had changed.
Verdan had wrestled with a question since the moment he realised that Wizardry was dead. What should he bring back, and what should he let die?
Verdan doubted any single Wizard in all of history had had such a golden opportunity. He could shape the understanding of an entire branch of magic, set things up the right way from the start.
It was an exhilarating though terrifying thought, and he’d hesitated at first, giving in to that fear. Now, however, he’d taken his first steps along that path.
The enchanting machine for the crossbow bolts. Taking Dirk on as his first apprentice. Creating the device for testing people for their Sorcery aptitude and element. Even creating a pseudo-enchantment for Kai’s spear using an Aether construct.
Each development had sent ripples out into the world, and now there was no turning back. So far, the consequences of Verdan’s actions had been mixed, but manageable.
This very trip to the north had begun when Sebastian, Keeper Macstan, had heard about Verdan’s enchanted weaponry. Now, Verdan was in good standing with Clan Thrain and had prevented a terrible loss of life.
Verdan shuddered to think about how things would have gone without his intervention. Sebastian would have failed to stop the Darjee, and likely died in the process. Then, with no one to stop him, Dordan Macstan would have become Thane of Clan Thrain.
Verdan had no doubt that Dordan would have been lost to an accident or illness shortly after being named Thane. Then, in the chaos, Staran, the Keeper who had orchestrated the Kranjir portion of the foul scheme, would have taken control.
The link between Staran, the Gormagyr, the Darjee and the corrupted Automaton was unclear. Verdan had a feeling that the spellcaster they’d fought was the crux of it, though.
Right now though, he had no way to pull on that thread any further. He could only trust that Clan Thrain was on guard for any further traitors within their ranks.
Turning back to the papers closest to him, Verdan wondered what impact they would have. His work so far had drawn attention from a whole host of people, but this was something else.
These papers were from his own findings, and those found in the ancient complex where they’d fought the Automaton. Much of it wasn’t useful, but the knowledge they referenced and casually relied on was so far beyond that it was scarcely credible.
Verdan had thought that he had come from the apex of Wizardry, from the heights of power, but he was wrong. Whatever society had designed and created the Automaton that he’d fought was leagues past the Grym Imperium.
Verdan had been happy in his position of knowledge once he’d woken up. It had given him an advantage and allowed him to outwit and overpower his foes.
This time, though, he was experiencing the other side of that knowledge gap.
He’d scoured the facility within the mountain as best he could. He’d found little, and none of it was useful at this point. Still, Verdan had added as much to his collection as he could. Perhaps one day he could put it to good use.
Beyond the documents, the only thing left in that facility was the body of the Automaton itself. It was a wondrous piece of arcane construction, with incredible potential. Unfortunately, the damaged remains alone could only tell him so much.
Still, he’d come to an important conclusion.
The Automaton shared the same style of enchantment as his lamp, the weapons of the Kranjir Chosen, and other ancient ruins that Verdan had seen. That meant that they were linked, and that the potential of the weapons the Kranjir were using was far beyond what Verdan had expected.
The Automaton was the largest example he had at the moment, and so he’d spent a long time going over it in detail. Beyond its hardened exterior, he’d found countless Sigils carved into its body. Some of these Sigils were small and tightly-grouped, while others were much larger and seemed unconnected.
In some ways, Verdan was thankful for the damage done to the Automaton, as it let him gain better access to the interior and its Sigils.
As part of teaching Ciaran and Maeve the basics of making a gathering spiral, Verdan had been able to give their weapons a cursory examination.
The Kranjir had made an effort to conceal these arcane marks with designs and decorations, but the little that Verdan could make out was exactly the same in style as the other examples he’d found.
Getting up to pace around the room, Verdan found himself wishing he knew more about traditional enchantments. What he had here was an entirely different way of creating them, and seemingly on a much larger scale. The idea of mass-produced enchantments seemed impossible, but that was what Verdan was seeing.
What sort of society would have such magical power at its fingertips, and what would it look like?
The Grym Imperium had been home to countless Wizards of the three citizen races, but magic had remained a tool for them alone, not something which could be spread out amongst those without the capability of Wizardry.
Perhaps in some ways, Verdan had a glimpse of that life with how he’d been using his Aether constructs. Perhaps he was actually following the same road that his forebears had, which had eventually led to this new language of Sigils.
Verdan stopped and put his glass down, shaking his head slightly as he moved over to the window and stared out over the city of Glarn.
Thane Donal Macstan of Clan Thrain had given Verdan this house within the Thrain Hold. He was right in the administrative centre of both the city and the Clan, an honour by all accounts. It was Verdan’s for as long as he was staying here, which wouldn’t be much longer.
The fight with the Gormagyr, the Automaton, and the strange magic-user had been four days ago, and it was time that Verdan accepted he would make no further progress in the short term. What he was dealing with was just too far removed from what he was used to, and from his own magic, for him to be able to pick it up quickly.
Turning to the towering peak of the Bristaen mountain, Verdan decided that it was time to start back to Hobson’s Point. He’d put it off long enough as it was.
Of course, it wasn’t quite that easy, and he hated the idea of leaving the Automaton’s remains behind, but the time had come.
A soft knock at the door drew Verdan’s attention as it opened and Barb stepped in. “What is it, Barb?”
“There’s a messenger for you from Keeper Macstan. Shall I show her in?”
“Please do,” Verdan said, moving back to his desk and gathering the loose papers strewn across it. He wasn’t sure what Sebastian wanted, but this might be a good excuse for him to speak with the Keeper and start the process of leaving the city.
Barb opened the door wider and a young Kranjir girl came in, nodding respectfully to Verdan.
Due to his part in ousting the traitors within the Clan, Verdan had found himself well respected by
“Wizard Blacke, Keeper Macstan invites you to dinner this evening. Wizard Mhorgain has been invited as well, as has Sorcerer Kai and Witches Gwen and Hedda. I’ve been asked to wait for your response.”
“Please tell the Keeper that I will be happy to attend,” Verdan said, not bothering to ask about when or where this dinner would be. He had little doubt that someone would arrive to escort him when the time came.
“Thank you,” the young girl said, nodding to Verdan once more before leaving the room at a quick pace.
“Anything you need from me?” Barb asked with a raised brow.
“No, but spread the word informally that we’ll be heading home in the next couple of days if all goes well. I’ll be discussing matters with the Keeper this evening. For now, let’s pay a visit to Dirk.”
Barb nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Verdan took a few moments to tidy up before grabbing his staff and heading downstairs, Barb falling into step behind him as he went.
Verdan didn’t feel the need for protection in the heart of a Kranjir city, especially not this one, but he had long since given up on arguing with his protectors.
Verdan’s mind drifted to Tim and Tom, and he wondered how the two brothers were getting along. Tim had been on a trip with Sylvie to meet with the Airta, last he knew.
Tim and Sylvie’s relationship seemed to be borderline taboo for the other Airta, which was concerning. Hopefully, though, their trip had been a bit less eventful than his own. The two of them seemed well suited for each other. It would be a shame if anything kept them apart.
Magnus Macstan, one of Verdan’s Kranjir allies and self-assigned retainer, was waiting in the entrance hall as they reached the door. Seeing Verdan on the move, Magnus quickly grabbed his axe and joined Barb at Verdan’s heels.
Magnus had suffered a nasty arm injury in the battle with the Darjee, and then again with the Automaton, losing his right arm to the elbow.
In fact, Verdan was pretty sure that Magnus had suffered a bad injury in every battle they’d been in together. If it weren’t for Verdan’s healing spells, Magnus would either be dead or missing a few more limbs.
Despite that, Magnus was loyal to a fault and always ready to do his part alongside Verdan’s other followers. Now that Verdan considered it, Magnus seemed to treat his relationship to Verdan as that of a Thearn to a Chosen.
The Chosen were the heroes of the Clans, wielders of the ancestral weapons and the first line of defence against monsters. The Thearns were volunteers who served individual Chosen, giving each Clan a number of small warbands centred around a single strong individual.
Verdan had no real issue with Magnus joining them. The Kranjir had proved his worth many times over. The problem was the precedent he was setting by doing so.
On his own, it was no issue, but combined with the situation of Verdan’s apprentice, it was a thumb in the eye of some of the more stubborn Kranjir.
Dirk and the Mhorgain were quartered outside of the Thrain Hold, to which Verdan had initially been opposed. There was a lot of interest in Dirk and how he straddled the line between Chosen and Wizard. If one of the Clan’s Keepers was going to force that issue, Verdan wanted to be on hand to act as soon as possible.
Currently, as far as anyone was aware, Dirk was the only Chosen remaining in Clan Mhorgain. He was a self-determined Chosen, having used an old law to declare himself as such, but it still counted.
Thankfully, any argument of that fact had been curtailed when the Thane publicly put his support behind Dirk and recognised his status as a Chosen. It was a political move from the Thane, but it was also a gesture of goodwill, and one for which Verdan was thankful.
Clan Mhorgain was a shattered and scattered thing, doomed to a slow death until they were completely absorbed into the other clans. Or at least, they had been. Now, Dirk offered them a chance to keep their Clan alive.
In practical terms, that meant that Dirk and his Thearns were being housed in an area that had been specifically set aside for the Mhorgain refugees when the Clan first fell.
It also meant that Dirk had a full complement of fifty Thearns now, with Benlen acting as his Blade, and a growing number of Mhorgain Kranjir from the surrounding areas had gathered in the city.
Clan Mhorgain had been based further south, closer to the mountain range that cut across the narrow link between the north and south. When the Clan fell, most of the survivors fled north, into the lands of Clan Thrain.
Now, word was spreading about Dirk and the potential for their Clan, and Verdan had no idea where this would go. What he did know, though, was that the amount of Mhorgain Kranjir in the area had been underestimated, and that was also causing an issue.
Fortunately, that was an issue for Clan Thrain. Verdan’s concern was that if Dirk’s presence was bringing them together, it would follow that they’d want him to do something. Exactly what Dirk could do, Verdan didn’t know, but hope was a hard thing to reason against.
Making his way through the streets of Glarn, Verdan ignored the curious looks his lack of scars brought and soon enough was knocking on the door of the building where Dirk was staying.
An unfamiliar man opened the door, but he clearly recognised Verdan, and invited him inside as he sent someone to fetch Benlen.
Dirk’s Blade arrived quickly and gave Verdan a respectful nod. “Wizard Blacke, good to see you.”
“And you, Benlen. I was hoping to speak with Dirk.”
“He’s speaking with someone at the moment. I’m sure he’ll be free shortly,” Benlen said with a frown. “If you take a seat in the common room, I’ll let him know.”
Verdan nodded and followed the man who’d opened the door over to what seemed to be a general space for everyone in the building. A few of Dirk’s Thearns were present and someone had brewed a pot of herbal tea that they were sharing out among those present.
Verdan took the mug he was offered with a smile and sat down off to one side, not wanting to intrude and well aware that to most Kranjir he was a strange sight indeed.
Magnus took the seat opposite him, while Barb propped herself up against the wall. Magnus shifted and fidgeted while glancing at Verdan.
“What’s bothering you?” Verdan asked directly. Normally, Magnus was quite direct about things, so this seemed a little out of character for him.
“Well, we’ve not really talked about it,” Magnus said hesitantly. “But I wanted to ask if I’d be able to come south with you when you go. I know that you’ve tolerated my presence here, but I’d like to stay with you.”
Verdan leaned back, a little surprised by the abrupt question. “What has brought this on?”
“Well, I know it won’t be long now, and I wanted to ask before everything gets too complicated.”
“I see,” Verdan said, considering it for a moment before nodding. “Alright, I don’t see a problem. You’d be joining my guards, though, and would have to follow orders and work with the others, understood?”
Magnus nodded, his eyes bright as he fought down a grin. “Yes, of course.”
“Good. Barb, once we’re back, could you introduce him to Ruan and the others?” Verdan asked.
“Of course, I’ll make sure he meets everyone once we’re back,” Barb said with a nod to Magnus. “You’ll like the others. They’re dependable and solid.”
The two started to discuss life outside of the Clans for a Kranjir, and what Magnus should expect, so Verdan let his attention wander for a time. Unsurprisingly, his thoughts went back to the hidden facility and the Automaton, but this time he focused on what he’d found when he explored the huge storage area.
Past the cradles, storage and scaffolding, Verdan had found a fortified entrance to the Druinn.
The Druinn was the sprawling underground world that lay beneath them. According to Kranjir legend, it was filled with monsters of all varieties. If the last few weeks were anything to go by, then those legends were founded in truth.
They’d fought a Gormagyr down there, and from the ancient fortifications he’d seen in the facility, that was only the start.
