A Dying Mage's Fury

Hack Hack Hack.

Black blood sprayed through the holes of Ranok's gloved fingers as he stifled his throaty cough.

"Don't give up yet, Ranok." Tolkien said, "a few more hours, and you will have enough holy magic to gorge yourself. We're nearly at Brightmont's gate. Soon, we will enter the city." He looked back and held Tolkien's bloody hand and flashed him a nervous smile. "We have been together for decades; you cannot fail our Lord and abuse the gift he gave us."

Cough, cough.

Ranok could only grunt in agreement. His hands spasmed as electrifying pain coursed through every cell in his thin, withering body. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, not without her blood, not without her core. She and her brother were the last living decedents of the Vallick, the blood king, the progenitors of the vampires and their thralls. Her blood and magic were the only things that could restore him.

Their carriage rattled suddenly, shifting the seating vampires and knocking Ranok's hand loose from their tense embrace.

The raunchy man's uneven gait attested to his inebriated state.

He belonged to a group of men who started the celebrations early. It was custom to journey to the capital the night before the festivities, visit all the alehouses, and doze off in an inn during the city-wide prayers and offerings to the Sun God, Uvu, the next day.

Thousands of people journeyed to the capital on foot, and traveling by enchanted carriage was most uncomfortable when surrounded at all sides by stumbling drunks.

Tolkien growled when the second thud came.

"Damn those mortals. Nothing but swine, all of them. Their entire race appalls me. Don't they know that nobility travels amongst them?"

"I don't imagine they do," Tolkien said. "Don't be impatient, Ranok. You cannot carry me into the city on foot, neither can you cut through the humans to make a way. For now, we can only wait."

Ranok let out a small groan as he leaned back into the carriage, quietly watching as hundreds of humans trudged along their carriage.

"But-"

"Don't be so emotional," Ranok interrupted. "For a blood mage of Sound and wind, you're awfully noisy." Tolkien only held his tongue because he didn't want to prove his master right. "She might be a simple holy knight, but she's the daughter of a General. You cannot underestimate her."

Tolkien narrowed his brows and drew a deep breath. "What if we can't defeat her?"

"We…" Ranok doubled over, clutching his chest in pain. His lungs were on fire. Tolkien reached out, but Ranok raised a hand to stop him.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Ranok? Don't let this sickness take all that you are. What good is being a master of light and shadow if you cannot strengthen yourself? Take the blood of those humans outside and strengthen yourself? This is madness!"

Tolkien was fairly sure any human listening close enough had heard them, yet he did not care. Not when his master's life was in danger.

Ranok smiled again, this time showing some teeth. "Again, with the noise. You know that I cannot do that. We have evolved to the point where their blood offers very little nourishment. The energy it takes to absorb them won't be worth the meal.

The poison has spread too deep, and I only have one good fight left in me. If we are lucky, I will have enough energy left over to absorb her. Besides, it would be foolish to abduct someone in the open like this. What if they end up being important?" he added with a sly smile, and Tolkien almost rolled his eyes.

"I feel no ounce of mana from he rabble, none of them are important," Tolkien said plainly. He knew Ranok was right. Arguing with him was a waste of time. Saya told him just how delicate his blood core was, but he didn't like to his master suffer.

Ranok was a blood duke with powers second only to the Akenos the Regent himself. He was a teacher and mentor, and Tolkien hated seeing him like this. Ranok needed to live; the mission needed to succeed.

According to their spy in the palace, the siblings and a team of returning Borderlanders and 1st class junior knights will be stationed at the northwestern section of the city, near the imperial Academy.

They were to protect the academy ground from thieves and heretics who oppose the Holy church's light. No real threats ever came from the fanatics and rogue mages. They simply didn't deem the Academy worthy enough of their most powerful mages. Nothing ever happened at the Academy during the festival, not until the blood mages visited.

Tolkien folded his hands and stripped his voice of all emotion. "You are right; we need to concentrate. According to the report, she has the heart of Saint Malum. It will be difficult to kill and absorb her if she is armed with a secondary Mana core. Have you thought of a way to prevent her from overpowering us with her Holy magic? Our innate weakness does us a great disservice."

"Yes. Yes, I have." Ranok's bloody lips curled as he waved his hands. "She has a weakness. His name is Seth."

***

Tessa ran down the hall at full speed, her boot clacking on the marble floors with every step she took. She wished she could run faster in her ceremonial knight's armor. The ornate armor the imperial army forced junior knights to wear during religious celebrations was as restrictive as it was heavy.

The armor she wore had sprawling silver glyphs, and stylized floral gold patterns strewn all over its bust. The only real perk to wearing armor, so ill-suited for battle, was the sword and the compact, circular shield that magically spawned on command. It was enchanted by magical Forgemasters, and they enhanced the user's Holy Magic.

She turned at a large pillar and burst out in front of a large stairwell, which she subsequently scaled with a single jump. On top of the staircase was a gaunt man with a pale, angular face. His hair was long and ink-black, his nose aquiline, and his jaw stubbly and chiseled. His lips curled when Tessa landed in front of him.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance, sister," Seth said with a glib smile, "If you keep this up, no suitor will ever court you."

"What would you prefer I do? Act ladylike and hope some noble pity us and marry me?" she snapped.

He frowned, "it was a joke, sister. I know you are about to become an intermediate knight after training under Baston for so long, but don't lose your sense of humor."

"Don't get cheeky. We are on a mission. We really don't have time for this."

He sighed, "I missed the old you. She was more fun to be around. I know we are the last of our shamed house, and the stakes are very high, but you can't stop being yourself."

She opened her mouth, but she paused briefly as she searched for words. "Things aren't always as black and white as you make them out to be, Seth. You will understand one day" Her big brown eyes grew less intense.

Tessa's luscious long hair was titanium blond, her face oval, and her frame was toned and domineering, hardened from countless years of training. "Where is the rest of the team, they were all supposed to be here when I arrived." She asked.

"Not everyone is as fast as you." he smirked, "they are probably still on their way."

Her forehead tensed. "You are the slowest in the group, and you arrived first even with all that armor; something is not right." She stared down the marble hall she came from and turned around to inspect the adjoining hall it connected to.

It was eerily quiet; she couldn't hear anyone coming. She unbuckled the communication crystal on her waist and spoke, "You are all late; report in." No voices responded. She weaved a basic hand sign, and a holographic display of the entire academic complex came into view.

Tessa and Seth were in the Center complex, and the other seventeen were in the west wing, quarter-mile away from the designated meeting zone. They needed to thread the western halls until they arrived at that section of the Academy.

'What are they doing there?' She asked herself. Something didn't feel right. In all years of serving at the Academy, there had never been an attack, but something felt odd.

"Prepare for battle," she said. "I think there are intruders in the western wing. And be ready. These aren't the weak robbers you're used to facing at the borderlands.

I couldn't sense them, and the Academy's array didn't pick them up either. We are dealing with highly skilled mages here."

Every word after weak flew past Seth's head. He understood that he was nowhere near as strong as his sister was, but he never thought the criminals he faced were 'weak.'

they were powerful elemental mages and deviant magicians who practiced some lost or forbidden magics. He received recognition for his efforts and was rewarded with a dimensional ring that bore the Sun god's mark after his service. He didn't think that all the enemies he faced during the five years he spent defending Mormon's borders were weak. He shuddered at the thought of how powerful their opponents must be.

He nodded to signal his sister and followed her as she darted down the corridor leading to the west wing. Glass lamps containing star-white crystals dotted the corridor as the duo sped down its marble floors. It was going to be a tough fight. The loud floors gave their location away as they approached unless their opponent were fools, they already had traps lying in wait.

The holographic lights that indicated the life and status of the rest of their team died out one by one. What started out as seven lights had dwindled to three, time was not on their side.

"I will draw their strongest warriors, and you will draw the attack of whoever is holding them hostage. If they are too strong, don't engage them. Fall back. I will use the heart to provide cover while we escape."

"Es…escape?" Seth huffed as he struggled to keep up with his sister, who was already slowing down to match his speed.

"We're soldiers of the Empire first. We must not die if we cannot rescue our comrades. Actionable information will prove vital if we are to fight these mages again," she made another simple hand sign, and the crystal in her hand shone white with a unique glyph.

"This is 1st class junior knight Tessa of the 25th armament. Several members of my team have been captured by an unknown enemy. I will attempt to rescue them and gather information about our enemy."

A stern voice came from the glyph, "This is Senior Knight Baston. I have sent the team patrolling the training grounds to your location. Wait for them to arrive before engaging the mages. Gather intelligence only, do not engage the enemy on your own, and don't attempt a rescue without backup."

"What?" Seth protested on instinct. His teammates were dying. How could a so-called knight ask them to hold off their fellow teammates? 'Do they just expect us to sit back?' Seth was glad those words didn't escape his mouth.

He regretted speaking up as soon as he opened his mouth. He just inadvertently questioned an Intermediate Magic Knight, the third-highest rank a knight could rise to in the Mormon empire.

Tessa shot him a furtive look and apologized, "I apologize, sir. He is still a borderlander." The voice grumbled and ended the transmission, and they both journeyed down the hallway in silence. After minutes of running, they encountered the first sign of the enemy.

A single corrupted lamp, covered in blotches of darkness that dyed the white orb at the center grey.

"Lost Magic," Tessa muttered as she inspected the lamp. They both continued on in silence.

A few lamps later, they found a similar corruption; and another every two or three lamps. Soon the pearlescent white of the hall changed to a dreary, lifeless grey, and then to pitch black. Tessa conjured a ball of light when the hall was plunged into darkness.

Her light started out strong but soon began to weaken. Every single step, the reach of her light shrunk. Tessa noticed a gentle tug from the nebulous void that surrounded them and felt slowly felt its pull increase. He felt the ravenous blackness chew away at her light spell, and she was sure that if the void persisted, the light would fade out completely.

"This is not good. We might be dealing with a Vampire or a powerful shadow mage. I have never seen a dark cloak spell this extensive. It is almost as if it's alive. I can feel the spell trying to steal my holy magic. Have your blade ready" A single bead of sweat rolled down her face as she spoke.

She listened for the monotone ring of blade clearing scabbard but heard nothing. She swiveled back at her brother, who stalked in silence behind her and opened her mouth to urge him to draw his blade once more, but she saw the confusion or rather ignorance in his eyes.

Was he ignoring her? No. He wouldn't do that. She furrowed her brow in thought. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She felt the distinct pull of mana in the air and chose to test a theory she'd formulated for her sudden voicelessness. She tapped the floor twice with her armored metallic feet and listened for a sound. Nothing came.

She grabbed and mouthed slowly, "Can you hear me?" He read her lips and shook his head from side to side. It was as she suspected, a mage was manipulating the sounds around them. 'A sound mage.' She'd read of them, but never actually met one in real life. They were as powerful as the journals say, then dealing with one was going to be difficult.

'This is very bad. I need to warn Baston.' Luckily the army issued communication crystals had flare spells baked into them. After they've been crushed, they retraced their owner's steps and sent out a magic pulse that informed all nearby units of the owner's last known position.

She tightened her grip around the communication crystal and crushed it. A tiny wisp floated up from the shattered remnants of the crystal and shot into the direction of the west wing. 'What? That is not where it's supposed to go.'

Tak, tak, tak.

The light traveled a fair distance before it was suddenly snuffed. Gentle footsteps echoed from the darkness. A layer of murky reddish mana covered two figures as they came into view. One of the men wore a waistcoat and held a rapier in his left hand. The other wore a long leather coat and a hat. They both had ink-black hair, green glowing eyes, pasty white skin, and were about two meters tall.

Seth's eyes widened, and he muttered, "Oh shit." He fumbled for his blade, still cased in its scabbard, but it was too late. The body of the Rapier wielding mage flickered. He attacked