53rd Day of Spring - Year 1758 of the Golden Era
Shorefarm, Yellowfield, Draya Calyrex
The mage's tower sprouted out of the hill ahead of them, a great black mark against the pattern of the stars above.
Viridian's light, still bouncing at her hip, wasn't nearly strong enough to illuminate the tower from afar, especially not through the canopy of trees growing around it. They were thicker here, the trees. Old growths left untouched, with thick bushes at their bases that made approaching the tower from any direction but the well-laid path to it precarious.
Eventually, they discovered a wrought-iron fence that circled the lot around the tower. It was twice as tall as any of them, with spearhead-like spikes running along the top of the fence. The front had a gate, one which was, at the moment, shut.
Next to the gate, however, was a tall stone pillar with a chain running down its side with a large metal loop at about shoulder height. A lamp hung off the side of the pillar, glowing crystals within casting a circle of yellow-orange light in the night that they could only barely see by.
"Do we... pull the chain?" Viridian asked.
"We could break in," Carnel said. "I can make it over that fence."
"It's a wizard's tower," Lazur said. "There might be magical defenses. Spells to catch stupid intruders. The wizard might already know that we're here and be debating what to--"
Lazur cut herself off as a loud dong sounded out. She turned to stare at Viridian, who held onto the metal loop in one hand. "Like you said, it's a wizard's tower," Viridian pointed out. It felt like a sensible enough action to her.
The three of them waited. Nothing stirred beyond the iron gate. No movement from the tower, no flickering of arcane defenses springing to life. Just the occasional rustling of leaves in the cold night air.
Carnel tapped the gate with the end of a finger. "No one's coming," she said. "Should I just open it now?"
"Wait," Viridian said. She eyed the wavy wooden doors of the tower past the fence. She considered pulling the chain again, but just as she was about to the lantern stuck to the pillar nearby flared brighter.
A small click echoed out, then a voice, dry and raspy and tired, spoke from somewhere above them. "Hmm? Yes? Polite guests can at the very least show up at a time when the sun is present. Otherwise, do the right thing and send a servant with a request for a meeting. Unless you three are the servants?"
"Hello, sir," Viridian said to the open air. "We are... servants sent by Magus Maldrak. He wished to..." What exactly did he want them to do? Secure the tower, certainly, but she suspected that they weren't equipped to handle a magus of any talent.
"He wished to ensure that the mage tower here was in a good, working state," Lazur continued. "Are you aware of the state of the nation at the moment?"
There was a long pause before the voice returned. "Is this some sort of prank? Did my apprentice set you up for this, because I don't recall the infamous Magus Maldrak being on the continent at all!"
"It isn't a prank," Viridian said. "We were sent here to... scout the area, for the Magus. We just arrived here, and things aren't good."
"Hmpf," was the reply, but a few moments later the front gate screeched open with a sound of metal on metal and several small glowing balls appeared above the path leading to the base of the mage's tower. "Better come in, then," the man said.
Glancing at the others, Viridian shrugged as best she could, then led the others towards the tower.
The building itself was rather wide and squat, with a narrow tower on one side, and an observatory on the other. It was made of stacked bricks, each one larger than any of the puppets, though the exterior was broken up by some tall, narrow windows.
The front doors, a pair of thick wooden things with metal bands across them, shuddered, then slowly opened up, spilling candlelight out into the courtyard at the front of the tower.
Inside, the space was cluttered and lived-in. A study dominated the entranceway, with walls lined by shelves stuffed to overfilling with books, loose scrolls, and jars of strange and eldritch substances.
A staircase to one side wound its way up into levels that were shrouded by darkness, and on the other side was a balcony onto a second level where a large brass telescope sat in a complex gantry, the end pointing through a glass-dome ceiling towards the open sky.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
In the centre of it all, buried in a plush rocking chair and covered in several layers of blankets, was a man. His face was parchment-thin, and shaggy brows hid intelligent but beady little eyes that were locked onto the three of them as they stepped in.
Next to him was a puppet. It wasn't all that different from any of them, only... it lacked a certain level of artistry. It was a mannequin of the human form that moved with clockwork clicks. At the moment it was holding onto a tray upon which sat a steaming kettle and a small jar.
"Oh good. You're not screaming lunatics," he said. "Puppets though... yes, by the looks of you three, you're definitely something made by a magus."
"You can tell who made us?" Viridian asked.
"I can tell artistry when it's before me. Look at this old thing? The best I could do after three years of study, and it's merely a toy." He gestured dismissively to the puppet next to him. If the puppet was insulted, it didn't show it. In fact, it didn't seem able to emote much at all. "You three are a decade or two ahead of the arcanistry that went into my own fledgling work. I'd love to meet the arcanist that crafted you."
"Artificer Woodbone is with Magus Maldrak at the moment," Lazur said.
The man blinked, then snorted. "Nevermind, then. I might be a nobody mage of some lost tower, but even I want to avoid the career suicide that is that artificer. Still, maybe some of his ideas had merit?" He eyed the three of them in a way that made Viridian rather uncomfortable.
"Maybe?" Viridian tried. She bowed a little, the way some others did to Maldrak when he addressed them. It seemed the polite thing to do. "We were sent here because Magus Maldrak needs some things from your tower. I think for communications."
"Communications?" the old magus asked. "Why not head over to the academy? It's only a few days' ride from here. He could hire a coach and be there by the week's end. Unless that's what he needs my tower for? How did a magus end up around these parts? Viremontis I could understand, it's a rather cosmopolitan port, but this neck of the woods..."
Viridian glanced at the other two, then returned her attention to the mage. "Are you aware of what is happening?"
The old wizard scoffed. "I am always aware, little puppet. I am a wizard. I listen to the weave of faith and the arcane, I see the twist of the stars and know to read it. I peer beyond the veil of reality and, on some occasion, spy on the passing traveller for news." He leaned forwards, the blankets around him slipped away to reveal thin arms covered by ink-stained robes. "I know that something is wrong. I know that the dragon lords are silent. I know that the lands fester and that draconic essence is recoiling in a way that had never happened before."
"Then... why?" Viridian asked.
"I know, and most importantly, I know that it's not my problem." He snorted, then reached over to grab a tea cup from the trey nearby. "The world will set itself straight. Political sorts will dive in and rearrange things to their liking. And when it's all done and settle, my tower and I will still be here. We're not undefeatable, but like the mighty turtle dragons of old, we must merely be too damned much trouble to be worth hunting."
"Magus Maldrak wants to help," Viridian said.
He barked a laugh. "Himself, maybe. Shrewd man, that one. I bet he would see a way to navigate all of this to his own betterment. Hmm... you master wants some use from my tower, yes?"
"Yes," Lazur said.
He nodded. "I have... perhaps had, two young apprentices. They were good for listening to my rambles and for fetching things. I sent them to Shorefarm some days ago, and I've heard nothing from either."
"You want us to save them?" Viridian asked.
"Bring them back. Alive or not, but preferably alive. Their contracts with me give me ownership over their corpses, but they were of some passing skill, and I'd like to see them be something one day." He nodded.
"We can try to find them," Viridian said. "Where were they last?"
"Shorefarm," he said. "Ask the town's lordling. Tell them that Beornhelm the Reclusive wants his pets back."
***
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