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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Broadswords - 28. The Reformer

Broadswords


Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Reformer


The Dark Collective was coming closer to executing a plan of attack on a kingdom than they ever had. It wasn't that they hadn't had the capacity to do so; no, the power that they shared between all of their members could have caused devastation for quite some time. But the Dark Collective was an intelligent group. They knew that if they launched an attack on a single kingdom or region, the rest of the world would be able to prepare. And that they'd be able to join forces to take down the Collective.

Then there was Elsior. A strong mancer, undoubtedly. But a naïve one. He was too fresh, too young, and too focused on a personal vendetta. He was nearing the completion of his own side-project, one which would surely wipe Jhirdyr off the map. In doing so, it would reveal to each of the other kingdoms that the Dark Collective was still active and capable of mass destruction.

He was exactly the weak link in the Dark Collective that they needed.

The Reformers were a group dedicated to putting an end to the Dark Collective. Not all mancers were bad; not all of them wanted to use their abilities for evil. While it was true that many members of the Reformers did not have abilities past divination, and many members of the Dark Collective had lost those divining powers, there were members of each group that were capable of both.

Those involved with the Dark Collective who were able to manipulate things as well as see details of the future were by far the most powerful. However, there was no telling how many of them there were. Even to the Reformers, there was not a whole lot of insight on what exactly went on in the Dark Collective. They had more information than the general population, of course, but not by much. It was much harder to gather information using the powers of divination on those that had similar abilities. Harder, but not impossible.

One of the Reformers' most invaluable members was a Pyromancer named Phërion. Phërion was on the frontline of taking down the Dark Collective and was one of the allegiance's strongest assets. But as all of the Reformers did, he had to play his cards strategically.

He knew that since he wouldn't be able to get into Elsior's head, or likely any of his cohorts, he would have to look at alternative ways to get closer to the situation. Sending in a double agent was out of the picture; they'd attempted it a handful of times in the past, each with disastrous results. They'd lost some strong Reformers in their efforts. The Dark Collective was not a stupid bunch, and they'd figured it out each time.

No, Phërion would have to find someone that was connected to Elsior, but not directly working with him. Through many exhausting nights of pushing his Pyromancy to its limits, straining himself to find visions within the crackling flames in many different hearths, he finally discovered that there was a connection Elsior shared to a prince in the kingdom of Jhirdyr.

Jhirdyr was across the Axial Sea from Dorderia, the kingdom Phërion was from. The Axial Sea, being the largest body of water on any of the continents, aside from the ocean, was a treacherous place to travel over. But it was either that or travelling around it altogether, which would have doubled the journey time. Not one to shy away from adventure, plus being concerned with the amount of time they had left, he chose the more dangerous path.

There were few boatmen that were willing to travel all the way across the sea, but he was able to find one to agree to escort him over the waters for a steep fee. Between the tumultuous waves caused by whatever tectonic forces occurred beneath the seafloor and the monstrous creatures that lived in the depths of the waters, there were several points in which he feared they wouldn't make it. But they managed to come through unscathed.

He was accompanied by Roark, a fellow Pyromancer who was still coming into his own. He'd wanted to make the journey alone, but several of the head Reformers had insisted he'd take a companion. While Roark wouldn't have been his first choice, they'd insisted that the young mancer was an up-and-comer and a task such as this one would help develop his capabilities. While Phërion didn't think such an important mission was the right choice for someone so fresh, there was nothing further he could say in the matter.

It was getting dark by the time they'd entered Jhirdyr, and they needed a place to stay for the evening. They found a small place, Street Inn, and approached the man behind the bar. "We're looking for a room for the night," Phërion said. He noted that the man seemed distracted and added, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," came the response, though the man's demeanor didn't change. "My brother usually handles the room rentals." He shuffled around under the counter for a moment before emerging with a dusty, poorly-bound journal. He pushed it across the bartop toward Phërion. "We have just two rooms, were you looking for separate lodgings or will one suffice?"

"Have the rooms got two beds each?" Phërion asked. He didn't mind sharing a room with Roark, in the interest of saving money. The boat ride had cost more than he'd liked, and he wouldn't say no to cheaper options. But not if it meant sharing a bed with the younger mancer.

The man nodded. "How many nights?"

"Just one, for now. If we need to extend our stay, we can revisit that option later." He wrote his name down in the book where the man pointed, and handed over the payment. The innkeeper advised that there were a round of complimentary drinks that came with the stay. After the journey they'd had, both mancers were happy to accept.

"My name is Sal, by the way," the man said as he presented them with their ales. "If you need anything at all, please let me know." He stepped back and stood there awkwardly.

Phërion took a swig of his drink, feeling an instant relaxation course through his bones. But Sal was making him feel uncomfortable with his demeanor. "Sal, you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. There's just been a lot of things going on as of late," he said simply.

Though a casual statement, Sal's words piqued Phërion's interest. He had a feeling that whatever Sal was talking about had at least something to do with the reason for their visit. Attempting to keep the conversation afloat without seeming prying, he took another drink. "Oh? Anything exciting? We're from Dorderia, you see, and if there's any special events taking place, we'd be interested in possibly attending."

Sal cleared his throat and finally made eye contact with Phërion. "Excitement, yes, but I'm afraid not the sort you'd be looking for." Phërion could tell that there was plenty that Sal wasn't telling them, and that the barkeep recognized he was coming across off-putting. There was a sudden noticeable shift in his voice, despite the fact that it was obviously forced. "There are several things to do in Jhirdyr, though! We've got great marketplaces, tons of historical buildings that you must see, and some of the best libraries on the continent. And there are wonderful places to eat here, but you won't find a better meal than in this very establishment. Can I interest you in a view of the menu?"

While hunger was indeed gnawing at his stomach, something else that Sal said had caught his attention. "Libraries, you say?" He'd caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a library in a few of his mancy sessions, though it hadn't been clear why. Maybe Sal was the answer to that question.

"Yes, indeed. I must admit, I'm not the most avid reader. That's another area my brother is better equipped for. But we've got large selections in each of the libraries within the kingdom. If you're interested in literature, I recommend the city's primary library. I can give you directions, if you'd like."

He didn't know why, but Phërion felt that the library should be their first stop in the morning. There was a gut feeling about it, and he knew he'd have to practice some focused Pyromancy to see if he could hone in on what it all meant. Gut feelings with mancies were always a significant sign that one was on the right track. Taking Sal up on his offer, he memorized the simple directions to the library and allowed Sal to seat them to peruse the menu.

They'd eat, get a good night's sleep, and he would call on the flame in the morning to kick the plan into motion.


The poor excuse for a room that Phërion and Roark shared was small and cramped, and the dual beds barely fit inside. There was a small chest between the two for them to store their belongings, but the quarters didn't grant enough space to hold much else. Including a fireplace. Phërion had to settle for a candle in which he'd obtained from Sal. It would make the divination more complicated, but if he focused hard enough it would still be doable.

He sent Roark out to the dining room for a few hours so he could really concentrate on the task at hand. However, the thin walls didn't do much to keep him focused. He could hear every sound from the other rooms in the building, plus much of the commotion from outside on the street. Regardless, he was able to get a clear enough vision to realize what he needed to do.

Blowing out the candle, he fetched Roark on his way out of the inn and the two made their way toward the library.

When they reached the squat building, he knew exactly where to go. Though he was an established mancer, sometimes the second nature that the craft provided still surprised him. He'd never set foot in the building, but it was as if he knew the layout like the back of his hand.

He found a small book detailing Terramancy tucked into the stacks in the magic section. Through the visions he'd seen in the candle's flame, he knew exactly where it would be. It hadn't told him if there were any other books specific to the mancies, though, and he knew he had time to kill. He scanned the rest of the section, but no other books seemed to focus on the subject of mancies at all. He loved finding books on Pyromancy, just to see what kind of wild opinions and "facts" the author supplied. At the same time, he wasn't surprised; before the Dark Collective had soiled the name of the mancies, when mancers were not seen as an overall nefarious group, Terramancy was one of the most prevalent in Jhirdyr. If there was only one book on the subject, even in a library as large as this, it made sense that it was the only one remaining.

Swiftly, he moved the book from its initial location and tucked it behind a book on Tarragonian. "Let's go," he told Roark, a sense of accomplishment in his voice.

Roark, still a novice, didn't seem to understand the intricacies of how the art of Pyromancy spoke to the mancer. "I don't understand, exactly. You moved a book? That's going to help us get to Elsior?"

"Keep your voice down!" Phërion said, a little too harshly. "We don't need people knowing why we're here, and certainly not if they're familiar with who he is. That wouldn't bode well for us. And yes, it will get the ball rolling."

If Roark was upset by Phërion's reaction, he didn't show it. He did lower his voice, though, as the two exited the library. "I know I'm still learning, but I don't see how this is going to make any difference."

Trying not to snap again, especially considering the fact that he hadn't wanted the other Pyromancer to join him in the first place, Phërion took a deep breath before he continued. "The prince I saw in my visions, before we came here… this morning, I saw in the flames that he will come across the book. As you'll learn, the art of Pyromancy, as with most mancies, isn't always clear. What I do know is that this is an important step for everything to progress in our favor. That is where the feeling comes in, the feeling of knowing it's the right path."

"But… won't he just find the book anyway? If he's going to be looking in the correct section, versus a different section altogether?"

Though Roark was getting on his nerves, Phërion was beginning to realize that the boy needed his help if he ever hoped on making something of himself as a mancer. He was seeing why the head Reformers had mandated his accompaniment.

"There are some things I just can't explain. It all comes down to that feeling. It bubbles in your core, like an arrow pointing you in the right direction. You learn to let it speak to you. In this case, it's specific to the book I moved it behind. That much I know. It was about the Tarragonian language. If I didn't move it, the prince wouldn't locate both books. He would stop after finding the one on Terramancy, since that's his goal. But in my visions, he needs to find both of them."

"But—"

Before Roark could even begin his question, Phërion cut him off. "I don't know. I would assume it's because this prince needs to learn the language as well as discover more information on Terramancy. Why? No idea. Maybe he'll only be able to put an end to Elsior's plan by speaking to someone that only knows Tarragonian. Maybe he needs to get distracted in his studies so he can't get involved, and so someone else finishes Elsior off. Maybe it's something that will come into play dozens of years down the road. I really couldn't tell you. I just know it's right."

With that, Roark finally stopped asking questions. Phërion felt like he could actually breathe normally again, without the onslaught of inquiries.

They had several hours left before nightfall, considering the task was as simple as it was. They decided to check out some of the other things Sal had mentioned that the kingdom had to offer. At that point, they just needed to let everything fall into place.

Copyright © 2018 Disjecta Membra; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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So this foray was how Harmon found the book. I'm glad to know there is an entire group opposing Elsior.

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