CHAPTER 2 – In the heart of the enemy.
Neya missed the soft forests and rolling hills of her homeland, Ravintrov. She missed her family and her friends and basically, civilised society. Phoryell’s land was anarchy personified. The people lived in poverty, there were no rules. Only Phoryell’s despotism influenced his people.
She gazed out of the newly erected tower window. Flames licked the fallen stone of the capital but were kept away by invisible shields on the new buildings. The new buildings were Ravintrov creations. Neya smiled as she saw them, they were tall, sleekly built with black granite. They were perfect. No blood had been spilt in the mortar of those buildings because magic had placed them there. Every Ravintrov building was the same here, unlike back home. They were control towers, perfect for army living quarters and prisoner of war camps. There architecture still impressed Neya.
“Mistress Neya,” a timid voice called from across the suite. It was her servant Mioka. She turned to look at Mioka immediately; Mioka kneeled and pressed her head into the velvet carpet.
“Yes?” Neya said giving no instruction to rise.
“Master Atroyn wishes to speak to you.” Neya sighed inside, her father was such an interferer, he meddled in all her personal affairs. She knew what he wanted to talk about: a husband. Mioka didn’t move. Neya clicked and she got up, careful not to look at her mistress and walked out of the room.
She would keep her father waiting for a little, she couldn’t go and see him to soon – that was giving in.
She turned to the window again, this time looking to the horizon. No building but control towers stood in any city of the Union any more. They had to take over, it was the only land on the continent tormented by first age technology. It was ridden with plague and ruled by a sorcerer. Phoryell’s power is too much, she thought as she flicked to a mental image of him. He dwarfed her own power and the power of many Ravintrov sorcerers, but together they would conquer him.
Neya was driven to find out about Phoryell’s power and where he came from, it was a mystery to many.
We know his location, a siren sounded inside Neya’s mind. Her father was talking to her mentally.
Where? She asked him back.
On our old allies doorstep. Emperor Granik’s Crês-Emperal Graté!
A cloak appeared from no where and wrapped itself around Neya. She swung open the door and walked through the control tower to the highest floor. She passed several cloaked figures, all bowing as she passed. She halted. There it was: her father’s door. Last time she had passed the threshold it had been in tears following an argument about her chosen husband. This time was quite different, they were working together to conquer the lands, to make the union a better state. A state without Phoryell.
She opened the door to find her father, Atroyn, crowded by several advisors. He looked up and Neya smiled. Her father nodded and the people left the room.
“So, how on earth did you get the location. The sorcerer has been shielding his colony from magical searches.” She wondered. Her father smiled, she knew that smile. A smile that lead her into more curiosity.
“One petty thief was found unconscious after driving them all out of the great cities into the control towers. A quick mind brush told us he worked for Phoryell. Our dear interrogator worked from there.” She felt no pity for the thief, he stood in the way of a new world, a free structured society for the people of the union. But it would take some time convincing them out of the old ways. Phoryell was thought of as a saviour by the people but they knew no different. Neya was driven to make their lives better and under Ravintrov’s rule it would be so much better.
“May I speak to this thief?” Neya was curious and wanted to ask him some questions of her own.
“He was turned out and transported back to Phoryell. We kept him monitored but we lost his soul several hours ago. The only explanation is death.”
Neya now did feel pity. How on earth was he killed? She knew Ravintrov interrogation was mild and would not have caused him harm. It must have been Phoryell, had the thief let him down? Or had Phoryell got some soul shielding power. The man was a mystery and his powers greater.
Atroyn rose from his chair. “Ravintrov is closer than you think” he spoke. She sighed, he knew that she longed home.
“I will give up the luxuries to structure this broken society. How many people do we hold in the towers now? It must be almost everyone.”
Atroyn closed his eyes and knew the exact figure, “476, 345, the few remaining are with Phoryell, but most fled over into Ecclemau whom of course will harbour them, but not for long.” Her father had gone darker. He turned to the window and looked out upon the towers with the same pride as Neya had, but he had something more, he had greater plans floating around in his mind. Perhaps Ecclemau is also in danger, she thought, knowing little of the country and its politics.
“So, when are we going for Phoryell?” She broke her own thoughts.
“In an hour.” That soon…
Her father detected her surprise.
“Phoryell has dangerous powers, he and the criminals must be stopped.”
“I understand father, I understand.” She couldn’t wait to preach and convert his people to live in the towers and rebuild the nation, she glanced at her father. He had a stern look. She had a sliver of fear that her father had other plans. She cast this thought aside and prepared for the attack.
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The camp lay barren now apart from the odd bit of linen cloth or tent fabric. Phoryell swivelled around and saw no sign of his people. They were well hidden. He put up his hand and the shield vanished and several thousand followers sprung from no where. He forwarded and neared a few before putting up the barrier once more. They were invisible.
He only noticed how noisy they were when he got inside. Silence was the only thing he heard from outside the shield. Of course by using the shield Phoryell risked everything by telling his people about his magical ability. They did not grow curious through distress and fear of the necromancers. It was a good time to reveal his secret, or partially reveal it.
He flicked his eyes to his left side and the boy, Haven, looked up at him with his ever gaunt eyes.
“Your silence is no longer needed.” He told Haven, then snatched him close and kneeled down. “I’ve told them that the shield is my only ability. Don’t make me hurt you!” He found himself seething. “You say nothing of anything else.” If it wasn’t for the boy’s youth, Phoryell would have killed him to avoid detection. He was a risk to the Union.
Slowly, he waited. He was prepared for any attack, although he assured himself there would be none. They couldn’t possibly see them through the shield.
