This is section 2 of my "little" story's prologue. I know it's short, it was put here for the sake of consistency.
Part Two
Bane opened the door into a roomy office, furnished with a large, expensive-looking mahogany desk, strewn with papers, and velvet-padded chairs. The furniture was rather close to the hearth, to take advantage of the potential heat. Though the hearth was stacked with fresh wood, there was no fire. Bane and the mage walked inside, Bane striding over to the far side of the desk. The mage hung his cloak on an iron peg protruding close to the door.
Bane glanced at the mage, then gazed pointedly at the fire. He clearly expected the mage to light the fire. Like a servant, the mage though irritably.
Instead of lighting a fire, the mage mimicked Banes pointed gaze and directed it at the window.
The window flew open and an icy draft blasted Banes back. Bane shivered and wrested the window shut. Sinking down into a chair on his side of the desk, he gestured with resignation at the hearth. Smoke began to curl from the logs there, and flames could be seen flickering on the smaller pieces of wood.
As the fire picked up speed and heat the mage asked, You have a gift for magic, then?
My gift is weak, Bane admitted. light-spells and fire-spells are most of what I can do. Have a seat. The mage took the chair nearest the door. Have you come for a report? I was writing one when you came but He doesnt usually take reports in person.
No, He does not, the mage replied, and it was not for a report that I came. I have come for an artifact. A magical one, certainly stolen, and unusable in anyones hands but mine.
Bane ignored the mages arrogance. None of the guards or staff have anything other than the usual bought charms for luck and such, though I wouldnt be surprised if some were stolen
No, this is very powerful. And it belongs to a prisoner.
Bane turned outraged. A prisoner! No prisoner here has anything worth keeping we see to that!
Nevertheless, Bane, I know for a fact that the thing belongs to a prisoner.
Really? asked Bane indignantly. Then tell me what else you know about this matter, as you seem to be so well informed about the goings on in my prison?
The mage only smirked. This piece of dung was not worth his anger. It is magical in origin; one of its properties is to emit magic like a beacon. I sensed it fifty miles from here. This close, I can tell quite clearly that it comes from the first prison level, and that the owner of the thing is unmoving. Your guards are supposed to patrol that level, are they not? Therefore, it is logical to assume that it is in the hands of a sleeping prisoner.
And if it isnt?
If not, then you will have to search your guards and staff, dont you think? The mage cocked an eyebrow. Search every cell; the top level first. The artifact has the form of a small crystal, black in color. I will be back in five days to collect it. The mage paused a moment, as if thinking. By the way what do you have to report?
Bane sighed. Not much, he said, shuffling through the papers in front of him. We captured a peasant-boy, obviously a gifted. He had conjured fire, and was dunking it in a pond to watch the steam when my men found him.
Have you found any from the Virren family? We must have mages from the Virren family.
No, Im afraid not. Bane grabbed another stack of papers and began to leaf through them. Ah! I thought we had found someone else. A young girl, adolescent, reported living on the outskirts of a small village in the care of a great-aunt, by her claim.
Does she have a name?
Samantha, though were sure she was lying when she gave it. She began to say some name with a C or K, then gave Samantha.
A name beginning with C that wasnt good at all. The mage calmed himself; there was no need to get frightened over a mere letter. Any description? And dont give me every detail. Just hair and eye color will do.
Black hair, green eyes.
Green? As in hazel?
No, perfect green. Bane raised an eyebrow. Why?
The mage took a steadying breath, but didnt answer the Jailmasters question. Any aptitude for magic?
We tested her; she has no gift.
The mage frowned. Then how did you find her?
The guards sensed magic in the cottage, they said they were sure. When they went inside several hours later, all they found was the girl.
I see. The mage stood. Where is the village where she was found?
Just south of here, and maybe eight hundred feet higher in elevation.
Well. Perhaps this wasn't so bad. If this girl was what the mage thought she was, events could very well work out to his advantage. Very well. Kill the girl; we have no use for her. Remember, I will come in five days to collect the artifact.
Bane nodded, then followed the mage to the door. The mage retrieved his cloak; Bane picked up his umbrella; the remnants of the silk hung in shreds from the spokes. Bane put it down and looked at the mage. Can you keep us dry?
The mage raised an eyebrow. The rain has stopped. With that said, the mage swept out of the room, Bane pausing to close the door before he followed.
As it turned out, it had stopped raining. When the two reached the curtain wall, the mage gestured and the portcullis began to raise itself.
As the portcullis lifted to half the mages height, Bane cleared his throat uncertainly. You promised to make me a new construct
Preoccupied, the mage glanced sternly toward Bane and something exploded with a concussion that made the entire mountain shudder.
A great figure of fire stood directly in front of the entrance. Bane gasped; this hellish thing was easily twice as tall as himself.
Slowly, the monstrositys shape began to melt together as it slumped to the ground. Within seconds, the great fire-thing was reduced to little more than a flaming coal, embedded inseparably in the earth.
The mage knew this type of construct well; he knew it would respond to commands from the people here, and in that way be controlled; he knew it as well as he knew that his quarry was in this prison fortress. His quarry he knew better than to look for it himself. Its nature was to throw out massive amounts of magic. But it was throwing out so much that it disrupted his senses; he couldnt pinpoint where the thing was. He knew he would have to search the entire story to find it. He could stay, and do so.
But he just didnt have the time.
Remember, five days, he said as he disappeared into the fog. Bane was not at all unhappy to see him go.
Corvae Virren awoke to a noise that sounded sickeningly like the sound of a cell door. As her mind shook away its grogginess, she realized a cell door had slammed the cell right next to hers, most likely. There was a click as a key turned in its lock, sealing the new prisoners fate, and the sound of scuffling as whoever it was rose from the floor, where they had been thrown. Another one would it never end? Corvae lay back on her rough pallet.
A small face peeked through the barred window between the cells. Hullo, said the face.
Hello, replied Corvae tiredly. What did you do to come here?
I dunno. Whatre you in for, eh? Eh?
The new prisoner got no answer. The girl was asleep.
(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 05-24-2002).)
