Black Magus

“Let me guess.” I sighed in the face of Grandpa Lich’s stern gaze. “They think we’re inherently evil abominations worthy of extinction?”

“Our unwritten histories go back farther than you can imagine, boy!” Grandpa growled back coldly. “One day you will learn. But it is not my story to tell.”

“Right.” I sighed, standing to dismiss myself with a casual wave as I walked away.

"Our lessons will begin once you arrive at the school.” I heard him call behind me, though I took his words with a grain of salt. Even if they were true, I couldn’t have exactly looked forward to seeing his lousy teaching skills in action again. Yet, I was aware of the fact that I still needed a teacher. In particular, I needed insight into new spells; for the biggest lesson taken away from my years of training was that I was veritably ignorant in terms of magic and its potential uses. Though, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Nearly all of my knowledge was based on science and technology, after all. Sure, Telin’s hint about the relation between relevant knowledge and power gave me some advantage; but that was only manifested in the strength or effectiveness of a particular spell- denser, colder ice or more control over electrical discharge. Natural effects, more or less. Magic, however, was about making things do the otherwise impossible. It was forming sentient shadows. It was raising the dead. It was...

It was a myriad of things that I had not the slightest perspective on.

I softly blew a raspberry to voice my frustrations as I shuffled along the starboard side. A snail's pace eventually brought me to a stop at midship. If only to breathe and soak in the environment. Within seconds, the agitation and ire of being bored for so long ebbed away, allowing the gentle sounds of the waves lapping against the hull to flow into my senses. Gelid winds uplifted a salted spray as they hurried toward their mercurial finish line. A colorful mural on the senses against the plain canvas that befell my eyes.

The night sky my forefather had been so intently focused on felt as strange and ethereal as it’d been the first time I laid eyes on it. It was empty. A veritable void stretching from all horizons to my zenith; filled only those few pinpoints of light I noticed long ago. Not stars, I soon realized, but star clusters. Or at least clusters of things resembling stars. Though, individually, there were only about 30 I spotted with my eyes alone. Abysmally low in number, yet enough to combine to yield the same light as the full moon.

Naturally, that brought about a line of questions about the size of this hypothetical void. Or if it was even a void at all. It was possible we were in a dark cloud that blocked all incoming light. Or, it could've truly been a void with a radius from a few dozen to several hundred lightyears. A vast and empty abyss, speckled with only a few stars or galaxies Filled otherwise with nothing but energy. In the real world, that energy was composed of a relatively small amount of electromagnetic radiation and a lot of dark energy; the mysterious force driving the acceleration of the universe’s expansion. I was unsure if dark energy even existed in this world; in that context at least, but it was evident that a similar type of pervasive energy existed in this place: Mana.

Like dark matter, mana permeated all physical space as a type of 'radiation.' Yet it had material properties in the sense that it changed densities via some as-of-yet unknown means and was made malleable through force of will alone. More so, it seemed to have a reactionary or perhaps evolutionary effect on the things it influenced. Matter, energy, life, and conscious will; in order of weakest to strongest effect. Mana was the catalyst for change. It changed both the world and itself. Into lightning. Into Darkness. Into paper. Into magical beasts.

Into the void.

‘Void. Mana. Magic.’ The words echoed in my mind as I fell into the vivid, repeating memories that continued in my meditations up until this very day. Dreams of a vibrant starfield of galaxies, nebulae, and other celestial bodies being consumed by a cloud of dark energy. A living void of horns and scales with pointed teeth beneath draconian eyes. Those dreams; Grandpa Lich's warning; Telin’s casual ego-stroking; the text displayed to me before being reborn. All of these things made it clear to me that my family history was extensively tied to that of the Mortal Plane itself. If not the universe. A history of war, deities, draconic devils, and near-cataclysmic events.

‘So many ambitions.’ I chuckled to myself as I closed my eyes once more. Truly, there were too many ambitions; too many goals contained in my frail body. Plans to attend this prestigious academy. Intentions to form a guild, breach the barrier, and make something great of Ulai. Goals to grow as powerful as possible. A want to meet a dragon. A need to learn the true history of not only this vast realm; but of my lineage as well. It wasn’t that I was complaining, nor was I disgruntled with the situation in any way. I only felt that three to five centuries wasn’t nearly enough time to learn all that I wanted to in this universe. Thus becoming undead was seeming like a more and more viable solution if godhood didn't come first.

In bringing my eyes down to sea level, my gaze passed over the flybridge, supporting my vassals watching the cityscape of Odissi grow closer with the passing moments. Pointing and commenting to each other about the strange landscape ahead that they were either seeing for the first time or becoming nostalgic over. I decided to give them their privacy in favor of continuing forward to the bow to sit next to my father in companionable silence. A silence that lasted for only a few moments.

“Try not to be too hard on your great-grandfather, Amun,” He calmly said, never removing his eyes from the horizon.

“He’s a great man that I respect and admire,” I truthfully said, shaking my head to remove any doubt from my father’s mind. Then turned away, shrugging. “He simply has no talent for teaching, is all. And he's often dishonest. It's... frustrating, to say the least.”

“No arguments there.” He chuckled into his glass and then took a long sip. “I understand you have no interest in politics, Son.” He sighed out an alcohol-filled breath. “However, if you truly plan to one day form and lead your own guild and empire, it would be wise for you to at least get a taste of the political world before you attend the academy; regardless if you intend to have subordinates for such roles or not. As such, you’ll be coming with me to court until we reach your Great-Grandfather’s school. Once there, you will remain until he deems it appropriate for your return to the Ridge.”

“I understand.” I politely bowed. Then turned back to the approaching cityscape to linger in the silence for a few moments before speaking again. “May I ask you a few questions?” I turned to him.

“Ask me anything you like.” He smiled amiably.

“Well…” I hesitated as I tried to find a way to word the questions. “How do you use shadows?”

“Hmm.” He looked away with an inquisitive squint while puffing away on his cigar. Then he looked back to me, beaming wide with confidence; as well as something else that I couldn’t quite place. “I use our sorcery as a form of... second body, primarily. Secondly, as both a storage device and a form of locomotion. And lastly for…” he waved his cigar in hand as he tried to find the word. “Environmental uses.”

“Can you give me an example, please?” I hopefully squinted at him.

He eagerly set down his cigar and drink before rising from his chair and nonchalantly asking. “Do you have a stick?”

“Uh, sure.” I drawled, reaching into my shade pocket for some tinder.

“Light it for me, please.” Father calmly stated.

I did as told and lit the stick on fire. Then held the mini torch out at arm's length. “Listen carefully, Amun,” Father said in a much more serious tone. “The true strength of darkness stems from the fact that it persists everywhere. In all environments and in all realms, even in the brightest light, there exists darkness.

“Look closely.” He continued after a short pause. “Observe how the light spreading from that torch touches all surrounding it. Your hand; your body; my body; all the furniture on the deck around us. From these objects, darkness is cast in the same way as light- just as fast as light too. They are similar, you see. Similar and opposites.” He grinned maniacally like a conspiracy theorist connecting the strings on their chart. “One cannot exist without the other, Amun. For light and darkness are the same, yet different. Two sides of a single coin.”

With that said, he focused on the flame, and without a motion or gesture, the shadows cast under my hand darkened and swelled upward to consume the torch in an instant. Turning the warm, flickering beacon of light into a cold, blue-violet flame.

“What is this?” I stared in wonder at the abyssal flames dissipating, leaving nothing but the extinguished charred wood in my hand.

“The Flames of Moil.” Father proudly smiled. “A spell with far more uses than what you’ve just seen.”

“That was amazing, Dad!” I genuinely beamed at him. Though I also felt a bit of shame for underestimating him in the first place. As a politician, I assumed he never took the time to develop his sorcery. Naive or shallow as that may have been.

“Oh, it's nothing.” Father waved it off in a meek attempt at masking his pride and joy with humility. Then breathed a subtle sigh of relief at seeing my grandfather approach the bow with my vassals in tow. “I’ll show you a few more spells during our travels.” He reassured me with a pat on the shoulder.

“Very well.” I nodded excitedly. Then turned with him to watch the docking process in silence.

“Welcome to Thamestown.” Grandpa Lich spread his arms as a piece of the midship railing rattled to life, rusting and dispersing into a cloud of particles that soon aggregated into an iron gangway.

Noticeably warm roads of granite cobblestones welcomed us to the mainland. Wide roads and an array of iron plates lined the docks, some of which were deployed like the ship's rails to form towering cranes for the few cargo vessels around. Otherwise, there was only a calm winter ambiance and the methodical sounds of dock work to accompany us to the base of the cupcake’s head; essentially the side of the mound.

The Twin Capitals were built upon a huge, round mountain of black iron and igneous rock some 35 kilometers in radius and over 100 kilometers in height. Though its design was unique and surprisingly efficient, I could only see it as the overgrown cupcake I spotted from the seas; even as my eyes feasted on the elaborately expansive quays and docks and the curvature of the mound above, shielding them from the near-constant downpour of snow. Higher up on the mound's side, iron walkways and catwalks akin to terraces served as railed streets for the glass-walled shops and malls and houses and apartments. Much to my surprise, each building had an extensive greenhouse installed next to the elaborate entryways, positioned to take full advantage of the bright southern skies.

While the walkways were more than wide enough for heavy traffic, there were veritably filled on either side with citizens of the Empire. They waved as we approached, took a knee as we passed, then rose to wave, cheer, and give praise to our names long after we’d gone. The only ones among them that stood out from the crowd were the rare instances of an elaborately dressed individual or someone guiding an uncommon pet through the streets. Otherwise, everyone lived laughably better than in nearly every society I’ve ever resided in. There were no urchins, beggars, or vagrants to be seen. Though I didn’t fool myself into thinking that this was the standard across our empire.

The most fascinating thing of all, however, was the fact that no matter where I looked, everything was powered by enchantments. Sure, Grandpa Lich said such things himself; but seeing was believing. Everything from the streets themselves to the clothes people wore contained those strange crystals. Mostly to fight against the biting cold, but mainly as a form of transportation. Like the platforms we’ve used thus far, nearly all of the latter enchantments were composed of black iron; either in a particle form as before or in the form of cables, walkways, and elevators that connected the different parts of the metropolis together. Much like the railways in Deap Ridge, other locomotive enchantments heavily relied on magnetism. Yet there was little in the way of darkness.

After a few minutes of wandering and admiring the sights, we arrived at a level on the mound high enough for the first buildings to be erected, if at strange angles relative to the road. Some even needed to be reinforced by thick iron supports, yet they were more or less the same commercially-focused buildings seen before; if separated by arched alleyways and corridors. It was one such alley Grandpa Lich guided us down. Though it was unlit and extended farther than my superior darkvision allowed me to see.

After checking on my now-blind vassals, I relaxed into my thoughts and began thinking about the geography of the lands I’d be exploring. Based on what I’d read, Thamestown was the port city of the Deapou Empire and stretched across the vast majority of the mound's surface. As one would expect of a port city, it was a hub of both shipping and commerce and served as the largest source of income to the combined Empires.

Odissi on the other hand…

A droning rumble ripped my wandering thoughts back to me before they could wander astray. Looking forward to the platform at the base of the stairs, I saw a hollow chasm expanding at the edge of my vision, filling my gray-washed perception with light for the first time in minutes. The ruble increased in both pitch and ferocity as the light and color returned, bringing me to realize the sounds of society as a vast and voluminous cavern revealed itself to my senses.

It shouldn’t and probably wouldn’t have been stable if not for some unknown type of magic or enchantments, for it was nothing more than a hollow shell of iron and igneous rock so voluminous it had its own self-contained weather systems. Though no murals, flora, or even lights decorated its ceilings. There was only water gathering and pooling across the ceiling to reflect a dawn-like light from the massive crystals growing at their shores. Such light gave the landings like the one we arrived on a soothingly haunting ambiance; especially with their branching catwalks and stairways, twisting and turning and winding along the subterranean complex from floor to ceiling like some madden spider's web.

We walked along a private catwalk, looking over the expansive and bustling cityscape as we passed. Even from such heights, however, it was almost too much. Never before had my senses taken in so much information. The smells of produce cut through fragrances of spice and perfume as they spread through the open streets below. Shaken along by the melodic vibrations born from a cacophony of voices and spurred forth by the heat of thousands of bodies seeking the same thing. Pleasure.

The city was unique by virtue of two things. Geothermal heating and self-contained weather systems. Combined with the melted snow piped in from above, it created the only place in the combined empires with liquid precipitation. A trait that, under my father's guidance, formed the cornerstones of the Odissian economy: Leisure, Wellness, and Tourism. The entire city was a famous tourist destination for diplomats, aristocrats, and merchants across the realm. Spas, hot springs, elaborate restaurants, and the finest inns served as a proverbial playground for the many Maru's powerful elites.

After waltzing above the streets of Odissi, enduring much the same treatment as before, we arrived at a keep-like structure in the rear center of the metropolis to enter a lift that took us to one of the large castles sitting at the top of the mound. I was split up with my vassals at the landing. They were pulled away by some servants while I was forced to chase after my forefathers through the Shadow Realm; only to exit in the face of roaring trumpets, dancing jesters, plush carpets, and rows of posh individuals kneeling at the edge of an expansive dining hall.

They announced us by name, seemingly to no one, during our march to the grandiose table at the end of the hall. Soon after seating ourselves, four individuals marched inside to receive the same treatment as us. Only they halted before our table to drop down to a knee like the other nobles around them.

“Welcome, your Imperial Highness, Your Graces.” The man and woman in the middle said in near unison. “We of the Noble House of Fulgum are honored to have you in our presence.”

A long, awkward pause stretched between the words of the nobles and any other sound. And in that moment I saw the unease; the fear in some cases, that my grandfather’s death mana naturally brought out of the crowd.

“Rise and be seated.” Grandpa Lich elegantly grunted in his usual tone once the long moment passed. And like roaches scattering from the light, everyone pounced up and scattered to the arranged tables without delay.

The Fulgum family moved to the seats opposing ours while my vassals and who I assumed were their vassals occupied linear picnic table-like seats on either side of our table. And therein was the moment I turned on my proverbial autopilot. I tuned in only when something interesting caught my ears or when I was forced to socialize with the Fuglums. Otherwise, my Eternal Eye processed my senses while my mind wandered about whatever it pleased.

I learned several things through the surprisingly tasty dinner of whole-roasted fowl and vegetables. Mostly about the family of tempest mystics that stood below my father in our political hierarchy. Marquis Raiga Fulgum was a man in his forties with bark-toned skin and gray streaks of hair creeping along his temples. A man as tall and solid as the great trees that populated our empire, but not as large and mighty as Grandpa Lich. Marchioness Lilinoe Caglia-Fulgum was a tall, petite, and curvaceous woman with straight blue-black hair and penetrating eyes; she was just as old as her husband but looked as young as both the twenty-something-year-old Countess Rachel Caglia-Fulgum and the Count Liam Caglia-Fulgum standing by her and her husband’s side. All smiling amiably at the lot of us. In terms of magic, the Marquis and his daughter both had lightning magic while the Marchioness and her son both had mist magic. More impressive to me, however, were the reports they gave to my forefathers.

Through them, I learned that the two heads of the noble family were responsible for all that occurred within the Odissian Empire, with the exception of Koka, my Grandfather’s county in the 'turtle head' region of the mainland. The count and countess both had their own counties that were each relatively close to the capital city. Though each of them held much the same conditions. Because of the wealth of enchantments our empire was privy to, each settlement in each county was reported to have an abundance of crops they could harvest year-round; obvious results of having each and every structure containing a greenhouse, though each region had specializations in different products. Liam’s city-state of Lalandae specialized in ranching, hunting, and agricultural artisan goods like wine and cheese while Rachel’s city of Cagliostro grew and bred cotton, and silk-producing insects that turned the relatively small city into the fashion hub of the empire. Regardless of where each civilization was located or what they produced, they all were linked via the enchanted bullet trains that stretched across the mainlands. Forming an efficient logistics system that birthed a healthy trade-based relationship between the city-states. Thus fueling the economy.

Most shocking to me of all was that neither Grandpa Lich nor my father imposed taxes. Neither on the citizens nor any businesses. They and the nobles below them were open to paying a tribute if they so wished. Though if they did, it was implied that Grandpa Lich would deny the offer while my father would accept it for various means. From what I could gather, the deal was that my grandfather; being the Magus he was, would protect each city or settlement with a 'dead zone' filled with an undead militia. My father on the other hand; being a politician, imposed a tax only on imported and exported goods and invested the majority of that money, the money from tributes, and a lot of Grandpa Lich's wealth into things like urban development, education, and healthcare.

It was because of those things that every Odissian and Deapouan citizen had the freedom and rights to not only grow their own food but to receive a free education and healthcare. Allowing everyone to live a lavish life in such a hostile environment, regardless of social class or wealth. Though in my skeptical mind, I knew it wasn’t sustainable. And it was made evident that the empire wasn’t a utopia. Crime still existed, for one. And whether to mine, forage, or hunt, people had to venture outside the dead zones and face the wild beasts of the expansive frozen plains.

The last notable piece of information I gained from the dinner came from the fact that the siblings; the Count and Countess, were both eying Toril strangely. Contemptuously, almost. As if they were simultaneously jealous of and looking down on him. Conversely, Toril seemed visibly uncomfortable. His eyes were practically glued to a plate that looked like it belonged in a display window rather than half in his stomach.

Looking back, I had my suspicions when I learned the Marquis and his daughter had lightning magic like Toril. But I hardly expected that he could have been of noble blood. Though that wasn’t what astounded me, it was the fact that I knew next to nothing about him. It was the fact that I knew next to nothing about any of them. Granted, we all met when we were children. But that didn’t mean they didn’t have their own pasts, interests, and dreams; I realized, and subsequently made a point to find out what they were, for each of them.

After dinner, much the same process of our entrance was repeated until I found myself huddled in a private chamber with my forefathers, the Marquis, and his wife. A treasure room, I realized once my father casually kicked a massive chest of coins and jewels into his shadow.

“Again.” Raiga bowed as my father turned back to him. “It was my pleasure to host the esteemed Royal House of Cole.”

“As always, Raiga.” My father grinned at him while patting his shoulder. “I look forward to my visit next year.”

“As do I, Your Imperial Grace.” He bowed again. Then turned to me. “And I look forward to my venture to the royal capital in a few years to see Your Grace take the next step on the path to greatness. And above all, I look forward to seeing the magical prowess I’ve heard so much about.”

“As do I.” I bowed to him. Then gave a dismissing nod to the Marchioness before turning about to throw somewhat contemptuous looks at the back of my father’s head, disappearing into the shadows.

“Jeez. That was a nightmare.” Grandpa Lich's groan echoed my sentiments after I fell into the umbral dimension. “I’ll be taking my leave now,” He then said, turning to us.

“So be it.” Father abruptly nodded. “We shall retire for the morning and set out at sundown. Expect us in Koka by the following morning.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Grandfather impatiently waved over his shoulder as he continued down into the Shadowfell. Past the dilapidated streets and buildings and through the semi-solid surface of concentrated darkness. Wherein he disappeared entirely.

'Where the hell is he going?'