The Phoenix Ring(63)

Suddenly, he was staring at the world through the lens of magic. Much like when he had used the vahailen spell, he was able to see the soul of every living creature, for miles around, though there was no color.

Aaliyah’s was a weak, nearly transparent orb, connected to Aidan’s by a thin white line. About midway across that line was a tiny tear. As Aidan watched, small sparks erupted from it, draining both Arrors one bit at a time.

The mage began to panic and lost focus, causing his vision to regain its color and loose its soul-finding properties.

Aidan desperately grabbed the parchment that contained the spell to look for anything that could repair a broken lifeline.

At the bottom was written in small letters: “Elves are masters of Arror. They should be consulted before a sorcerer attempts any spell dealing with life magic.”

Aidan knew little of elves. He had seen a few from a distance, but they rarely spoke to humans. He had heard tales of their brutality, but also of their compassion. They were said to be up to ten feet tall, infinitely wise, and immortal. Some said that elves were still alive that had witnessed the creation of the world, though Aidan doubted that was true. In any case, he had heard of their healing powers. Unfortunately, elves lived on the eastern continent of Sortiledge, Ariyahn, which was an ocean away.

But maybe, just maybe, Aidan thought. He flipped to the back of the book, where a map of Gurvinite, the center continent, had been magically copied. Sure enough, there was an elven trading post located on the Western Shore, which served to maintain contact with the dwarves.

It was about three hundred miles from where Aidan’s current position, and it was the only elven encampment of any sort in all of Gurvinite.

Aidan stared at his friend. If he tried to fly to the elven camp, he might or might not make it before the spell broke. If he didn’t, they would both die. Even if he did, he had no guarantee the elves would help him, and he would certainly fail to arrive at the isle when his master needed him.

I could try to break the link, Aidan thought.

But he knew it would kill Aaliyah. He couldn’t do that, now that they were linked he understood and cared for her far too much.

So, with one arm, he picked up his friend as well as he could. She was surprisingly light for someone so strong. He walked to the griffin and gently put her on, then loaded the packs and retrieved his staff.

For a moment he considered burying the amogh, but quickly decided against it. He didn’t have the tools, the time, or the respect necessary to do so properly. Instead, he crossed the man’s hands over his chest, and left the body to the elements.

As he reached the griffin, who was far more expensive and well trained than Aidan’s previous ride, he slashed the ropes with the blade on the end of his staff. Then he climbed onto the creature’s saddle and took off into the sky, just as clouds began to gather on the horizon.





Timothy arrived in Argentah just as the sky began to release its thunderous rage. He ran to the first griffin dealer he could find, who was selling all his beasts for an extremely high price. Apparently, all the other griffin dealers in Argentah had been killed or lost their wares in the past week.

Timothy had no money, but he was now on official business. What Grogg had said before he died kept playing itself over and over in the young mage’s mind. After we take the isle, goblins will rule this land. He didn’t know what the goblin had planned, but he knew what isle they were speaking of.

And so, it was with confidence that he strutted dirty, bloody, and hungry into the bustling griffin barn and demanded a one person griffin, in the name of the King.

He was immediately told to leave the barn, or at least, that’s what he thought he was told through all the swearing.

The young mage was sitting dejectedly in the courtyard, wondering if it would be acceptable to steal a griffin to save the kingdom, when two men in green cloaks approached him.

“I thought we were the only representatives of the King in Argentah. What brings you here, mage?” Timothy looked up. The man who had addressed him had scars running along his face, and both carried bows on their backs. “Name’s Brutus. King’s Ranger,” he said, sticking out his hand.

Relieved, Timothy took it and shook it fast and hard. He immediately related all that he could to the two, stopping to breathe only twice.

“Did you say Aidan Rune?” Brutus asked.

“Yes, why? Do you know him?” Timothy asked

“He was almost my apprentice. Instead, I got this useless farm brat,” Brutus said, playfully punching his partner in the shoulder. “This merchant may not be interested in letting you take a griffin by yourself, but I’m sure that with some persuasion, two Rangers and a mage can weasel a deal out of him.”