Hurried, almost frantic footsteps ringing up the stone steps.
Round and round the winding Tower of Song in the Imperial City of Anuire.
Even before Harald Khorien had heard the steps, he knew what was coming.
"Archmage? The Emperor demands your presence." a servant's voice was heard outside his heavy oak door.
The chamber at the top of the Tower was his favorite. He could find peace there, away from prying eyes and ever-demanding attention. So close to his beloved stars, with an astrolabe built specifically to his instructions. He studied the constellations, surveyed the flowing fabric of mebghail and mused secrets that were lost to the ages.
It reminded him very much of his chambers at Stormpoint.
Yet another knock on the door. "Archmage? Are you in there?"
Word had reached the City of Stormpoint's fall. How Boeruine, the Dragon and two traitor houses of Taeghas had taken a third of Taeghas and its capital city. All in a flash.
If he had been there, this wouldn't have happened. But when he accepted the position of the Imperial Court Wizard, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep an eye out to the north. Far, far greater dangers now lurked beyond the borders of Avan's infant Empire; ancient monsters who spelled doom not just for the dream of a new Anuire, but for the race of men overall.
He thought of his daughter, who was born mentally handicapped. Cursed by the gods, the priests had said. He almost incinerated them on the spot. If the public knew, they would have come for her. Ridiculed her. Used her to destroy him.
So he wiped the priests' memories blank using forbidden sorcery. He loved his flesh and blood dearly, and made sure that she would have the best life possible, full of happiness. He kept her a secret from the world, gave her a privileged life when almost no other child with such difficulties had. And then she passed.
He kept the death secret from everyone. Instead, he focused to provide a future to another little girl. He saw in her tremendous potential, what his own daughter could have been - even though she wasn't his own. He taught her as much as he could, supported her and her family and then had to send her away when she wasn't ready. Like any parent does.
When he found out that she had taken all of the Taeghan Mebghail for herself, the first thing he felt was pride. So much pride that it almost made his chest burst. After pride, came fear. He knew that having such power made her a target. Had he given her what she needed to succeed? Most likely, no. But he accepted the position offered to him, as he had to move on from an empty house in Stormpoint.
He had covered for her. Vouched for her many times. He kept this last fact a secret from the Emperor. But now, civil war had erupted. And the Emperor found out about his omission.
And the Emperor demanded his pound of flesh.
"My lord?"
With that, Harald Khorien rose to his feet, taking a last, loving glance to a small locket in his hand. In it, was a painting of a smiling little girl from Wilder's Gorge. Full of love.
And then he answered the door.
Round and round the winding Tower of Song in the Imperial City of Anuire.
Even before Harald Khorien had heard the steps, he knew what was coming.
"Archmage? The Emperor demands your presence." a servant's voice was heard outside his heavy oak door.
The chamber at the top of the Tower was his favorite. He could find peace there, away from prying eyes and ever-demanding attention. So close to his beloved stars, with an astrolabe built specifically to his instructions. He studied the constellations, surveyed the flowing fabric of mebghail and mused secrets that were lost to the ages.
It reminded him very much of his chambers at Stormpoint.
Yet another knock on the door. "Archmage? Are you in there?"
Word had reached the City of Stormpoint's fall. How Boeruine, the Dragon and two traitor houses of Taeghas had taken a third of Taeghas and its capital city. All in a flash.
If he had been there, this wouldn't have happened. But when he accepted the position of the Imperial Court Wizard, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep an eye out to the north. Far, far greater dangers now lurked beyond the borders of Avan's infant Empire; ancient monsters who spelled doom not just for the dream of a new Anuire, but for the race of men overall.
He thought of his daughter, who was born mentally handicapped. Cursed by the gods, the priests had said. He almost incinerated them on the spot. If the public knew, they would have come for her. Ridiculed her. Used her to destroy him.
So he wiped the priests' memories blank using forbidden sorcery. He loved his flesh and blood dearly, and made sure that she would have the best life possible, full of happiness. He kept her a secret from the world, gave her a privileged life when almost no other child with such difficulties had. And then she passed.
He kept the death secret from everyone. Instead, he focused to provide a future to another little girl. He saw in her tremendous potential, what his own daughter could have been - even though she wasn't his own. He taught her as much as he could, supported her and her family and then had to send her away when she wasn't ready. Like any parent does.
When he found out that she had taken all of the Taeghan Mebghail for herself, the first thing he felt was pride. So much pride that it almost made his chest burst. After pride, came fear. He knew that having such power made her a target. Had he given her what she needed to succeed? Most likely, no. But he accepted the position offered to him, as he had to move on from an empty house in Stormpoint.
He had covered for her. Vouched for her many times. He kept this last fact a secret from the Emperor. But now, civil war had erupted. And the Emperor found out about his omission.
And the Emperor demanded his pound of flesh.
"My lord?"
With that, Harald Khorien rose to his feet, taking a last, loving glance to a small locket in his hand. In it, was a painting of a smiling little girl from Wilder's Gorge. Full of love.
And then he answered the door.
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