The prince of mages

The prince of Mages

Chapter 1 : The awakening of power

In the vast magical world, diverse and infinitely challenging, there existed different stories. One of them was about a battle, so extraordinary that it became legendary and passed through the ages. The formidable battle between an emperor as powerful as he was just, and a sorcerer whose very existence defined the abomination.

It was a confrontation as terrible as it was inevitable that every people thought they had to understand and approve of. A war of all times between good and evil, light and darkness.

But the truth was never simple or what each race claimed was reality. Not to mention the deceptive appearances and manipulations that were the real causes of their blindness.

The great battle had taken place at the top of a black mountain named by the guardian sorcerers - Stanys, which in ancient languages meant "the dwelling of the chosen ones of evil", a remote and unknown territory to the common man, hence the choice of the black sorcerer to build his immense kingdom, a city of freedom and darkness that he hoped would be inaccessible to all.

And recognizing his mistake, he foresaw the imminent arrival of his greatest enemy, preparing himself as best he could, using all his talent, his great strength, his will and his magic, sparing no effort, in order to wage the fight of his life. Even though he was perfectly aware of the inevitable outcome.

In the Chamber of Spells, equipped with his thick book of invocations, proudly wearing a dark battle uniform, protected by thick armor, and complemented by a long cloak of a dark night sovereign, the sorcerer had the desperate desire and ambition to summon a beast, the biggest, most powerful and cruelest one there is, to balance as best he could the long awaited battle. With his hands outstretched, he radiated and recited a spell in a deep and gloomy voice. Soon, the entire wall behind him, inscribed with darkly glowing magic hieroglyphics, liquefied and turned into a thick fog, giving access to a colossal door that opened and let out a monster as black as it was sordid, immense and powerful, with thick, rough skin covered with stones, and whose coldness would have frozen any weak being. A monster like the magician had probably dreamed of. Moreover his sinister yellow eyes, devoid of light, looked around him with an abject greed that enchanted his master. The latter smiled triumphantly as he admired the monster he had succeeded in summoning.

But as he prepared to evoke a new spell, a deep and sardonic voice suddenly rose, resonating throughout the room with a force that made even the foundation stones tremble and gradually dissipated the heavy black clouds created by the dark spells.

"Oh, that's an impressive beast you have there, Goem." Then he added with a sardonic burst of laughter: "And I am a master at it. »

"Of course, since you are one yourself," the sorcerer cynically thought. "And the worst of all.»

The magic voice continued.

"Mine will be especially happy to play with it. I mean, in the short time this thing can resist him."

It was then that powerful magic sparks invaded the place and dissipated the remnants of darkness that filled it, which otherwise had no chance to resist.

Seeing this extraordinary demonstration of strength, the sorcerer, boiling with fury and yet feeling fear crawl towards him like treacherous shadows, stood up and freed his body from the waves of black mist, then he cried out.

"Good. Now that you have finally decided to come, show yourself to the light, if I may say so."

"Oh, and humorist in addition to your many talents. I'm finally going to have a good time in your company, if you also allow me this expression, dear opponent! »

And as soon as his sneer subsided, a whole wall collapsed under the pressure of phenomenal power, and the arrogant and strong ruler, with an unbearable mocking laughter, wearing a magnificent white and shiny metal armor and a long grey velvet coat, mounted on a huge winged beast whose beautiful silvery fur shone at the slightest light, brandished a magic sword at his enemy.

"I am here, Goem. And dazzled with all the light necessary so that you see only me. And I am happy to see that you have prepared yourself as best you could for our fight. For, as you have surely understood, the time has come for me to put an end to your existence. »

"And what finally decided you?" the opponent asked curtly, clearly nurturing a murderous desire.

The sovereign shrugged his shoulders, a small sardonic pout on his face.

"Who knows? To any other, I could have bothered to cite various reasons, even noble ones, if it would reassure him. Reasons such as justice, duty, liberty, and they will have no other choice, no other desire than to believe me? But to you, who are almost perfectly aware of my real nature, I would simply say boredom. In short," he concluded with a careless gesture, "whatever the reason, I'm going to put an end to what all these weak and whining people haven't had the power to do."

The dark magician sneered fiercely.

"For someone who is voluntarily on my territory, you are very arrogant to think that you could beat me there."

"But I am." The visitor confirmed with confidence. "And whatever you say, you would have, I know, given everything, including this disgusting city that you seem to love so much, to my great surprise moreover, for it not to be true."

Then, going on the offensive, the creature of darkness opened its big mouth and launched a powerful shot at his arrivals. But its radiant and very quick opponent protected himself by creating a huge spherical shield around him and his master and easily stopped the attack. The haughty ruler patted his creature's fur, satisfied.

"Good work, my boy. Now I'm going to let you have your fun. I only hope for your sake that he will resist long enough to satisfy you."

And his master jumped off his back with superb skill.

"Have a good time!"

The silvery creature rushed towards the black monster, who did the same, growling, roaring like a beast flying towards its destiny. Their terrible collision destroyed the entire room. While the black magician, drawing his sword, ready to fight, waited with a firm foot for the emperor who rushed towards him, his sword of light, skillfully brandished, and clearly displaying the expression of someone who did not doubt his victory. And deep inside, although it hurt him deeply, the magician never forgot this reality.

Their battle lasted a long time, the blows came one after the other with immeasurable power that devastated everything in their path, dragging the city into flames and chaos.

But in the end, as it was written, the magician was totally, irremediably defeated. Lying on the cold, ramshackle ground, on top of the only place that ever wanted him, Goem, the black magician, watched the emperor slowly and inexorably approach him, his wounded body already regenerating and shining with vigor and health under the blinding shine of the silver armor. Finally, when he arrived above the vanquished and watched him alternating mockery and intolerable sneers, the sovereign placed a scornful foot on his defeated opponent's bruised body and pointed his scepter at it.

"My plan was to get rid of you Goem. But in the end it seems to me that it would be too great a loss, especially for the future which I see in my mind and I look forward to with delight. Isn't that also your opinion, my beautiful one," the teasing winner inquired, turning to his creature, who laid victoriously on the corpse of the black beast, its beautiful shiny fur reddened by the blood of his slaughtered opponent, and replied with a neutral growl.

"And what have you finally decided to do to me, your majesty?"

"Something that I particularly fond of and for which you probably would have preferred death in the end."

Taking advantage of the emperor's brief moment of inattention, the wizard concentrated and deployed his last forces to activate a powerful and unique spell.

"What did you just do, Goem?" the Warrior of Light inquired, curious.

"Something I'm particularly fond of and have always promised myself to do for my posterity."

"I see," his interlocutor remarked, strangely amused.

Then as fate took life, a slight tremor as a symbol of a last breath was heard, and then from the ruined ground came out four statues of giants engraved with deep arabesques. They rose up and then stood up with pride and a rather disconcerting intensity before moving each one towards a cardinal point. By taking their respective places, they turned towards the city, and the marks engraved on their rocky bodies illuminated darkly, then they opened wide the mouth and a thick fog came out of it, magic fog which quickly covered all the city. A little intrigued, the triumphant emperor a little intrigued, decided to let the spell take place, then crossing the arms, the foot always crushing his enemy, he took a lazy pause to follow the scene without showing the least point of concern so much he was confident in his considerable power, curious of the outcome. But disappointed, he shrugged his shoulders and launched a remark with a mocking disdain.

"That's all?"

A venomous look answered him which he was totally insensitive from.

"I was expecting a bit of originality, Goem, but it was pretty lame. And although out of compassion and to salute your meritorious efforts, I recognize that it's a pretty powerful spell, I could dissipate it without any problem. But I won't," he decided after a few seconds of awkward silence, with an indecipherable smile. "Besides, you know it won't be able to keep me here, in any way, don't you? Nor any of my blood."

"Yes, I know that. But the others, those who are not fortunate enough to share even a drop of your cursed blood, will remain prisoners."

"And that gives me a wonderful idea for my next battles."

The sorcerer glanced at his opponent with a piercing, hateful look and then sketched out a weak, ironic smile.

"I can't believe all these idiots think you're good. If only they could see what you really are in all your darkness, a darkness so opaque that even I cannot conceive, then they will probably lose everything that makes them authentic."

The emperor simply laughed at this statement.

"Even their simplest smile. But don't worry, Goem," he continued, with feigned seriousness, "I think they are all more or less aware of the truth already. But they're just too afraid to realize it.

"I sincerely sympathize with you, your majesty."

"And I thank you for it."

The sovereign offered him a smile of false compassion, the same one he wore before the imposing sarcophagus in which he had just locked up his defeated opponent.

Then, after a last mischievous greeting to the sealed prison, he gracefully and nonchalantly left the immense room where the magician was to rest, and closed the double door with a reckless gesture of the hand without even turning around.

He walked away from the immense prison built in the heart of a cursed forest, forbidden to light, and climbed on his silver beast, which flew in the gray sky with majestic radiance and power.

When the emperor returned to his empire, a nation whose unparalleled beauty and prosperity were famous and envied in all magical worlds, he was acclaimed by all, his empire experienced moments of tremendous euphoria and rejoicing. His exceptional and unparalleled triumph was transcribed in golden letters and magical lights in the history books. And never was a sovereign more loved than he was.

But when the festivities and cries of joy finally subsided, the victorious and beloved sovereign went to his usual place of solitude and freedom, a hidden garden with a thousand secrets, ignored by all and protected by invincible spells. It was a huge and disturbing room, whose walls covered with sacred and moving paintings were perfectly divided into two parts.

One of them represented a kingdom of infinite light with a joyful people, living in harmony in a peaceful and prosperous kingdom ruled by a generous and upright ruler.

The other represented a dark kingdom, eternally devastated by the scourges of the world, where the people fought tirelessly and cruelly for everything, under the satisfied and sardonic gaze of a tormented ruler.

***

It was the story of this battle told like a fabulous tale. Then life was also to resume its march and flow like rain from the magical Geley Mountains. Good or bad, the inexorable evolution took place, and the legend that made the magic nations tremble became myth. And as Goemantis wished, the eternal mist preserved his shattered kingdom and the works of his life.

But what no one expected was that the magi, with the same dark soul and a mistaken vision of things, would gain the right to enter this closed place of the world. Thus, although simple people were perpetually frightened by Stanys and his great city of mist, black magicians inspired by their defeated pioneer began to visit the legendary kingdom. Thus, year after year, they continued to invade it for various reasons, some to take refuge, others to exercise their magic and atrocious authority, and a minority simply to do research to strengthen the power of darkness.

But later, as the city gradually gained power and notoriety, part of the cursed place was transformed into an orphanage which received the name of Athok and had only received this title by name, a monumental and atrocious fortress directed by a black mage whose greatest and main passion was to destroy children. A mage named Sirkol, banished from the world of magic for his unforgivable acts.

It was night, full moon, round and immortal star that reigned in a sky covered with stars revealing an immutable beauty, and yet seen from these inaccessible heights, strangely sinister. The compact mist took on a terrifying and mysterious aspect under the moonlight, and the nocturnal creatures invaded the dark and forbidden kingdom, howling with terror, roaring in the vast and deep forest, covering almost all the territory of Stanys, the so-called forbidden mountain. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, and they all fought with terrifying ferocity for survival.

An imposing building, located in the middle of these dreaded lands, perfectly hidden from the invisible black peaks, was illuminated by stellar reflections and countless menacing artificial shimmers.

In the heavy, dark sky, a whole cloud of flying creatures appeared, hunting in groups and violently dividing each captured prey. One of them suddenly broke away from the group, and with abject eagerness, flew at a large animal with bulging eyes and a gray-stained body, and grabbed it easily. When the beast, with its prey clutched in its cruel claws, joined its companions, they fought for the animal and tore it to pieces miserably. But after they swallowed its flesh with joy, another beast, colossal in size, appeared behind them and caught almost all of them in its voracious mouth. It landed heavily on the ground, chewing its prey with visible satisfaction, drooling over a few scraps of flesh and bone, its sharp teeth gleaming in the night. Then, pleasantly licking its chops, the beast quietly joined its other companions, who also gave the image of having been fully satisfied with their hunt. The bloody beasts moved about in the darkness, their only realm, faithfully guarding the sordid orphanage founded by an ancient magician who loved cursed stories.

But the estate was now run by a new, equally feared black magician, who that night was looking forward to a terrifying and sordid game that was especially dear to him.

Large moving shadows crossed the surrounding courtyards, devouring all the creatures they encountered on their way, and spilling their blood everywhere. They scaled the thick walls of the orphanage to rush to the lighted French windows and rush in. The visible lights that pierced the darkness went out as they passed. Shadows ran through long, wide corridors lit by magic lamps and crystal chandeliers, all breaking in the wake of the waves of shadows. They approached an imposing doorway carved with powerful, indecipherable spells in moving black letters. The dark mass stopped there for a split second before opening it and invading the entire room.

Two guardians-an old magus and a very young one-walked out of the thick pool of shadow before bowing to a man sitting in a large armchair, wearing a long grey tunic embroidered with silver thread. Ironically, the sorcerer's servants themselves wore beautiful ash-white uniforms with silver metal outlines that also bore spells as fearsome as they were obscure. The old attendant, whose name was Köel, had long, straight, white hair and various marks written on his giant body. One of his eyes was closed by a powerful spell to protect it because he was said to be able to see what was totally invisible to others. The youngest, who was aptly named - Johes, which in the old language meant the offspring of slaves, had short, curly hair, dark brown, and a thin, openly sadistic face with the most unstable character and hatred of light. He'd stop at nothing to contemplate the deep suffering of the people.

Sirkol gazed at him with irony and amusement, having felt, during his mountain crossings, his blatant pleasure in devouring nocturnal beasts and all the sparks of light.

"We are here, master," the cunning Köel respectfully announced.

Sirkol turned his glass of wine nonchalantly, contemplating the red liquid illuminated by the faint starlight with a kind of perverse fascination, before drinking it with his eyes closed.

"Master?" the old sorcerer insisted, without getting an answer.

Finally, the director decided to answer.

"I heard Köel."

He took a deep breath, but continued on a completely different subject.

"I've always liked this kind of drink, my dear servants. So much so that I drink it every day and of all kinds. And yet, strangely enough, they have never quenched my thirst, not once. I even feel, with each passing day, a growing and intolerable dissatisfaction, which gnaws at my mind, and which only quenches when the full moon shines, perfect in the immortal night of Stanys. What a pleasure to live this short period and all that it represents".

Then his expression changed and became as cold and rigid as ice.

"But I was almost impatient to wait for you. And you are perfectly aware that this is one of the things I cannot tolerate, isn't it?"

"Yes, we know that, master. We apologize for the inconvenience."

"It's good that you understand. After all, I never repeat a warning a second time."

Although shivering under the explicit threat of these terribly well-articulated words, the two guards were equally excited and delighted. For just like their master, they loved evil, and especially Köel, despite appearances. For unlike his young teammate, he was frighteningly calm, more mysterious and cunning, hiding behind an impassivity, his greedy and devious nature. In a way, he was even more unfathomable and indispensable than his director. For if we consider things correctly, Sirkol, despite his qualities as a perfect world man, his remarkable intelligence and his irrefutable ability to lead, was deep down and above all a cruel, heartless and totally bloodthirsty being, even to the detriment of all his pleasure in suffering others. While he, Köel, by his finely observant skill and his well hidden ambitions, knew how to evolve in the shadows, adopt any profile and accomplish any mission, this is why he had always, from a very young age, held positions of high responsibility in any organization he joined, except that of a leader. No, this position at the top never attracted him because it demanded a place in the sun, which he could not bear, the gaze of others and their judgments. He was an observer, not a watcher.

"Is everything ready?"

"Perfectly, master," Johes replied, his face expressing an unhealthy pleasure of anticipation. "We apologize again for our delay. But you would be happy to know that they are all hungry, hungry and eager to eat anything as long as it looks like fresh meat. You will be very happy to see it during the "show".

Sirkol smiled pleasantly but cruelly when he heard this satisfying news.

"As you said, it's perfect then."

Sirkol stood up, still holding his empty cup in his sharp fingernails, while admiring his desk whose walls and floor were covered with two-tone marble and granite, white and black. It was a large room, where an entire wall was occupied by a shelf full of thick books, all of which contained stories of black magic, or various other subjects related to the dark worlds. A huge bay window offered a breathtaking view of the terrible and timeless Stanys Forest. Another wall was entirely occupied by a huge life map, representing all the children of the orphanage.

It was a large animated image reflecting all shades of blue, on which shimmering golden dots were shining, signifying the young lives imprisoned in the cursed city. Each shimmering dot was different in terms of light and size, just as the quality and magic differed for each child. And one dot in particular, depicting a young child locked in a dark room, was extraordinarily bright, so bright that Johes, when he saw it, immediately lost patience and reached out his hand to the bright spot, sending a powerful wave of darkness crashing down upon him. The darkness wavered under the sinister attacks of young Johes, and everyone could feel the pain that the child felt because of these terrible attacks. But the point soon overcame the waves of dark force that had fallen on him and regained all its tenacious and dazzling light. The young black wizard complained in frustration as Sirkol mocked the failure of his young and hateful guardian.

"How pathetic, Johes. But now you must understand that there are things you can never defeat, let alone extinguish."

Johes shrugged his shoulders and became angry.

"Light has never been a necessity, my master. It is only a world of false hopes created by the weak."

Sirkol raised his eyebrows and turned to his young servant.

"I notice that you always like to turn off the light, Johes, or more intensely than usual. More than passion, it is your obsession, the motor of your existence. But we both know that it wasn't the light that beat you a minute ago, was it?"

Johes shook his head, exasperated.

"This being, whom everything can't help but call a prodigy, is made for the light."

"Yes, it is true. But he ignores it and will always do. So, what's the problem? »

"The only problem is that it's not turned off yet. And that he is what he is. That's why he has to die. Because he will never understand darkness. Even his coming here to Athok is shrouded in mystery". The young servant spat resentfully, his eyes burning with hatred, jealous of all those who were gifted with the extraordinary like the young prodigy he seemed to hate and envy so much. "No one will probably ever find out how he got to the black doors of the building, or more precisely who put him there. But if this filthy stranger looks like this abominable child, then he too would deserve to be punished".

"How cruel and cowardly you are, Johes." The black magician exclaimed in a significant gesture, falsely horrified, even though he hid it as best he could, everyone knew that he was most affected by his inability to feel the presence of the child's carrier. "You are destroying in another way what you are unable to overcome by yourself."

"You are the one who condemned him!" the servant replied angrily, deeply offended.

"Oh, it is true." Sirkol nodded casually. "I have only decided to take care of something that you will never have the strength to do yourself," the Athok chief added, playing with his cup before reducing it to dust. "Anyway, you're as weak as a shiny little bird, Johes. So now, to console you for your failures, young slave, I'll let you rejoice in the fall of your invincible enemy.

The young slave clenched his fists, burning with murderous rage.

"I'm going to do it. I will watch him suffer and die without missing a single moment of this unforgettable spectacle."

Sirkol approached the bay window and gazed at the night landscape, a vast world of darkness, filled with terrible beings. Their sparkling eyes and bodies moved through the black mass of the veils of mist.

The round moon and its invulnerable lightning illuminated this banished kingdom with its opal clarity. Sirkol saw his face and body reflected through the bewitched glass of the bay window, his gray hair combed backwards, falling onto his shoulders. His amber eyes clearly showed his imperishable adoration for all that the light hated. But the most fascinating and frightening thing about him was his large body, whose color was perpetually divided between black and white, and covered with symbols as ugly as they were deep, representing a powerful shield of evil that protected him from any outside attack.

"You may leave now. Go and prepare our little prodigy for the feast, and don't forget to take his faithful friend with him. If he really must perish, let him not be alone at least. After all, we are responsible for an orphanage. We must ensure the welfare of the children and give them the best of ourselves."

"Very well, master," Köel replied, constantly displaying an indecipherable face.

The two guardians bowed deeply to the magician before descending into the sea of shadows and leaving the room in a heart-rending roar. Sirkol admired the night through the window, then turned again to the map of life, contemplating the glow of a boy whose exception was terrible. Then he smiled cruelly.

"Ah, what a beautiful night. A wonderful night to kill the child."