Rudimentum: Oracle

Chapter 8

"Captain," said Mordrake as he sat in the newly polished throne. A large regal portrait of himself gazed down from the wall behind him, dressed in the king's golden crown, cloak, and ring. The burn marks from the previous portrait still peeked out from behind it like the bony fingers of a shadow crawling its way out. The Captain, a faceless man in red robes, kneeled in front of him.

Mage Victor Lorell stood beside the throne, stoic but his eyes lowered, trying to keep a grimace at bay. He stayed and obeyed Mordrake hoping when the time came, he was in the right place to help dispatch him for good. He held ono that hope, the hope that Prince Louis or Princess Elysia would stand up against him and fight. He held onto that conviction like a dying man holding onto life. Only death could break it.

Mordrake continued, "Send word to all the states that we will conscript more men into the army. Train them at once and set up strongholds in every major city around Vasilis. Let the people know if they refuse it will result in grievous bodily harm to either themselves or their loved ones. That is all for now."

The robed man nodded and left, his footfalls echoing off the marble floor.

"Why do we need more men in the army?" said Lorell, crossing his arms.

"You may think I took the throne for power, and you would be right," a chuckle escaped his lips, "but it is also to save Vasilis." He crossed his legs and leaned forward.

Lorell looked at him. "Save it from what?"

"From a greater evil. It is my destiny," said Mordrake. "Everything would be going much more smoothly if the princess had not escaped."

"What if Rudimentum is not real? What if the magic in this world is all we have?" said Lorell. It was worth a try, but he knew his feeble attempt to convince him otherwise of Rudimentum's existence was futile.

Mordrake laughed, his cackle bouncing off the walls. He said, "Oh, it exists, believe you me, little mage." He remembered when The Lady had come to him as a young child and told him of the greatness he needed to achieve. That he was the only one who could defeat him. She did not tell him how, only that she chose him. The rest Mordrake interpreted as the rightful price for his service to the kingdom after King Reginald had refused his previous proposition.

Mordrake continued, "The princess is merely delaying the inevitable, but I wonder that if she knew the longer she hides, the more danger she puts her people in, she would come running back like a stray dog? What do you think, little mage?"

"I think," said Lorell, believing Mordrake sounded even madder than before, "that without proof of this greater evil you speak of, she would not return so hastily."

"Ah, a non-believer like your late and not so great king," said Mordrake. "It matters none what you think. I will find her, and this man will help me. Let him in."

The two guards at the door pulled it open and a man with long dark hair and a deep scar across his lips walked in. His clothes, no longer blood-soaked and covered in grime and sweat, were clean and well-fitting. His shoulders hunched as he held the stump of his right arm—covered in thick bandages—over his chest.

"Meehan is that correct?" asked Mordrake.

"Aye," he said.

"Kneel," said Mordrake, leaning back in his throne. Meehan obeyed after a moment. "One of my creatures brought you back from your ship where I believe Princess Elysia Vasilis was boarded. Correct?"

"Aye," nodded Meehan, the pain and the deep seething hatred all too clear in his mind. Mordrake sensed the hatred and smiled. "The princess was on board, but the captain and her guard helped her escape."

"Your captain?"

"Former captain. I saw him not fit to lead, so I took over. When he caught us off guard, he took my hand. He went by Captain Ravus, but his real name is Ulric Swift," said Meehan.

"Do you hate this captain, Meehan?"

"Aye. I hate him more than anything."

"Do you believe this captain of yours still travels with the princess?"

Meehan thought for a moment. "He took kindly to the lass, and he protected her. They helped each other escape, so aye, I think he still be travelling with her."

"Very well," said Mordrake. "You know what these three runaways look like. You know your captain, how he acts and where he is bound to go. You will help me find them. I care not what happens to the two men, but the princess remains unharmed, am I understood?"

"Aye," said Meehan licking his lips.

"Stand, Meehan. I will give you control of some men to aid you in the search. In return for your service I shall give you back your hand and take away the pain," said Mordrake.

Meehan's eyes glowed. "You can do that, m'lord?"

He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward once again. "It will have all the functions of a regular hand and feel as if it is there, but it will remain an illusion, powerful and permanent as long as I will it. Take the bandages off." As Meehan did, Mordrake turned to Lorell and said, "The Academy and I have one thing in common. We both believe magic is for the devoted and the elite and that commoners such as this should only have access to it through one of us. For a price, of course."

Meehan held his red swollen stump out. It had been cauterised, sewn and treated when the flying creature had brought him back through a portal barely alive. He remembered thinking the bird-creature was going to take him to its nest and eat him. He had passed out and remembered little of what happened afterwards, only that he found himself in a castle, clean and with this man as king.

Mordrake uttered a spell and waved his hand as if bored.

Meehan stared at his hand. A powerful tingling sensation swelled throughout his arm as if tiny pins swirled within his blood. His heart quickened and his breath caught in his throat. From his red stump skin stretched and took the form of his hand. Cell by cell his hand returned as if it had never been severed. A sudden burst of pain shot through his entire body as if lightning had struck him. He cried out and fell to his knees.

"A powerful illusion," said Mordrake, "one that joins directly to your nervous system."

"Thank you, sire," said Meehan, nearly breathless. He clenched his new hand and felt his fingers touch his palm like they used to. Pain no longer ebbed from where his stump had been, and he thought with delight of all the other things he could now touch.

Mordrake said, "At the ship I caught the last remnants of a signature of a portal cast. It took a while to decode that it led to a shore of Kimera. That is where you will go." Mordrake cast a portal, the wind it created causing Meehan to step back in shock. The darkness inside it swirled like an endless pit of shadows.

"Now, m'lord?"

"Yes now! My men will meet you there with all you need. Let your anger guide you. Be ruthless. Do what you need to do. Kill your captain and that stupid guard she is with. Bring Princess Elysia back unharmed. It is best to heed my orders as that hand, and other parts of your body, can be removed just as easily. Now go, I have other business to attend to."

Meehan nodded and licked his lips. He stepped through the portal, unconsciously holding his right hand to his chest.

"Why do you not pursue her yourself?" asked Lorell.

"I have a kingdom to run, do I not? Besides, the moment I leave you will not waste to whisk the prince away and try to unravel all I am building," said Mordrake. He twisted the king's ring around his finger.

Lorell sighed still gazing at the floor. "I remember when you first came to the Academy. Eyes bright and thirsty for knowledge. I remember the day they darkened—"

"You're a fool—"

"A fool?" He sighed again. "Yes, a fool for doing nothing more than cleaning wounds. If only I could heal them."