Chapter VI

-- How is the reconnaissance of the valley going? Do you think they've already escaped?

-- It's unlikely. They don't have resources, and I found the corpse of the soldier who was helping them. I've already diverted the horses he was carrying.

-- And you still haven't found them? I thought you were the best tracker? Delan said, maybe the slave spoke ill of me.

-- My mission doesn't specify finding them. It would be impossible for anyone in one of the largest valleys in the region.

-- Your mission is to make things easier for us.

It had to be the slave who was present, and maybe she wanted me to notice her efforts to harm me.

-- It's true, but he has already done much to expedite the mission. And one more thing, Delan, let me handle the assignments for this brother.

Minjard was increasingly sympathetic towards me. I didn't quite understand why, but I could use it to my advantage for what I was about to do.

I returned to my laboratory, and fortunately, the flea that the slave's hair had conceived survived the magical binding. I had to incorporate the vision of a fly to understand the images that the flea's senses sent me, but it worked. The only thing left was to find the right moment to place it on Minjard's clothes. I had definitely revolutionized espionage methods. Another item on the to-do list was a list from a certain woman. One day remained until the deadline, and she had only directed furious looks at me. I kept observing her routine, but it had no significant changes, except for knowing she was different from the other slaves. She was tireless, while the others had resigned to being slaves, she had the hope that all the magicians would burn.

I was assigned to guide Tah's men to the entrance of the valley, as it is a very diverse area with all kinds of dangers. Then I knew the only way to get my allies out of the valley was through these soldiers. They were scoundrels who, in times of war, stole grain from all the villages under their jurisdiction and took the daughters of Angsiss to cooperate in the protection of the homeland, meaning they used them to satisfy their desires.

The first thing I would do is discover what topics they discuss in the circle. I found the slave face to face:

-- If you want this, you'll have to do something for me first.

I said authoritatively, as if I were an expert in blackmail.

-- Ha, you must be the most idiotic of the brothers. Remember that a secret has more power.

-- Well, if we weigh the credibility of a slave against that of a member of the brotherhood, you're smart enough to know the result.

And it was true, she had no proof of anything about me. On the other hand, I could put Delan on trial, and he would tell the truth. In the trial, no one has control over their mind.

-- And what do you want?

-- For you to bump into Minjard and release the contents of this vial, and don't ask me more questions.

-- In the end, I'll be the one facing the guillotine. I think I have the right to know why.

-- The only thing I'll tell you is that you and I are similar. But don't get it wrong. For this plan I have, I don't need anyone. You burn whatever you want as long as you don't get in my way.

Those words were definitely authoritative because she just left, whereas in other conversations, she had called me an idiot.

I knew she had complied when they gave her 30 lashes for staining the clothes of the most illustrious of murderers. I continued my morning and waited for her in the place we had agreed to deliver the materials, but she did not show up. The next morning, I went to the same place, and nothing. Could she have died?

The night of the second day after the deadline arrived, and I wondered what this woman's name was because before, I referred to her as a slave. Was she playing the same game as me? She was brunette, with large, light brown eyes. She had a drop of iris below the circle that we all normally have. She was fair-skinned and had a nose almost like a pig's, pink in color. What was I thinking? I started preparing a special tonic. The black leather whips are very heavy and have small folds of rusted steel that mark and infect the skin.

Then I realized I was only empathetic with the pain I saw on the outside but not with what was present in front of my eyes. I decided to go look for her near the stables, but at night, just when I finished dressing, she entered my room, engulfed in rage, and had the vial with her.

-- Do you think you can mock me, have me punished without you receiving any punishment? Well, you'll pay when I give this to Minjard, and we'll see who wins on the scale.

-- Calm down. I explained that we have the same goal, and we can't talk about it. The walls have ears.

-- I want to be part of it, or I'll take you with me to the other world.

-- Fine, I was just about to go look for you and tell you that you would be helpful to me.

-- No, I'm not going to stop being a slave here to become your slave. Equal parts, you miserable.

-- I agree.

She started to leave.

-- Did you place what I asked?

-- Yes, I took it out of my hair. But don't get it wrong, if I tell them you gave it to me, they'll definitely be interested.

-- I know, and I knew because you wouldn't let yourself be punished in vain.

-- Goodbye.

-- Wait, take this. I was going to bring it to you to treat the wounds. Apply it to each open wound and then bathe. It will close in about 5 hours. It's Lita honey.

She snatched the ointment and left. I went out to spy if anyone had witnessed this exchange, but the hallway was already darkened and empty.

Observations on Minjard began. He would come and go between the first building, giving directives to the men, spitting out poorly aged wines, and reading, reading a lot, unfortunately in languages unknown to my training. The most interesting thing this man hid was one of the darkest secrets, although no dark secret ever emits greenish lights of death; the catacombs of the sanctuary of the blades guarded by nearly 500 dark stone steps that must be descended to reach the bottom, would exhaust any curious person. The path was guided by moldy rocky patches and putrid smells, the smell of corpses. Stalactites decorated both the high and low parts of the cavern. Societies of spiders and insects nested everywhere. Gray mushrooms created margins on the cave walls. As the executioner approached the end of the cave, the path became adorned with dusty and enrooted objects, as if this pit fed on them. Wind instruments were played by the whispers emitted by the limits of this passage of terror, swords and torn clothes, necklaces, and precious objects hanging from the ceiling until a darkness painted the little air that could be breathed in this temple, and only a light was seen. Death manifested itself as a passage to the light, until only hands and faces trying to return to the earth were seen, voices clamoring for a return to life. All the way here, all that collection of objects was nothing more than an ode to the overshadowing of life.

Minjard had the matrix of his strength and lethality at the bottom of this pit of horror. Many times it was said that he used specter magic, although on paper this was prohibited by the circle due to the devaluation this magic had on human life. But there was no problem for one of its members to use it.

Wrapped in a dark aura and emitting flashes of light and a strange gravitational sensation, there was the vortex of Raiharj, one of the most deadly spells of specter magic. Minjard prayed and exchanged words with the vortex in an ancient language. The session my flea could witness lasted about two hours until Minjard left to manage the array of assassins that served him, including me.

This discovery echoed in me a lot because I had read some things about this type of magic and understood why he so confidently claimed he would kill me. Specter magic is based on the exchange of lives for power. To ensure the death of their prey, the most veteran specter magicians use "the mortal sacrament," a conjuration that ensures the harvest of the marked life. But for this, the vortex of Raiharj must evaluate if the marked life is equivalent to the investment of magic that will be provided to the executor to achieve killing it, in this case, me.

Many specter magicians simply burn the souls they harvest in greenish flames. But having direct contact with the vortex demonstrates Minjard's expertise.

I kept my composure because I couldn't panic. I had to be calm to understand the meeting this general would have with the circle. At first, I thought Minjard's excessive confidence had threatened me, but it turns out a cursed vortex with its own consciousness had lent him the strength to kill me.

Finally, Minjard went to appear before the circle, and strangely, the mind control of the appearance didn't work on him. He was the same person and didn't show fear of his masters either.

-- How are the preparations going?

Said one of the 5 circle members.

-- They're going well. I'll advance the mission a week earlier. Emsys still hasn't located that little lamb.

-- Don't trust him. That magician is one of the strangest, especially if you revealed to him that you're going to kill him.

--I don't, but he gives good ideas. I have him under close watch, don't worry about that."

"Kieran's effect doesn't work on him, and we still haven't discovered why. Once we do, you must kill him without hesitation, regardless of what phase the mission is in.

--Understood.

--One more thing, you need to execute Tah. We'll establish a holy headquarters in his territory. His country is one of the greenest, and we are interested in its strategic position. Of course, you must execute him with all the delicacy his position as monarch requires.

--And we also need you to bring us Emsys's corpse. Whatever it is that protects him, he may not even be aware of it, and it must be somewhere inside him. We need to locate it.

--Alright, although I think I'll miss him.

The general said with some sarcasm.

It was a bit terrifying, but I didn't start investigating to hear encouraging things, so I didn't waste any time.

--I have a plan for you to escape, but you need to reach the rocky circle. There, I'll leave you armor and a funeral bag. You'll put the boy in it.

--When?

--I'll let you know soon. Until then, prepare yourself and the boy.

--I'll trust you, but don't fail us.

--One more thing, is there anything about specter magic in your book?

--Some things, but I'm curious why you're asking. Don't you live in a brotherhood that has looted the surface of magical knowledge?

--Nobody can know I'm informing myself.

--Well, I'll tell you when you give me the date when we need to reach the rocky circle.

It seemed like a fair agreement, as it guaranteed him nothing more than placing them in a spot where the circle could easily capture them, so I agreed.

But all this research only brought more questions. Who or what is Kieran? Why did the vortex evaluate me as an important soul? Minjard could kill me with his skills, perhaps even without them, yet the vortex provided him with tools to do so. In the end, so many doubts would condemn me to die here; the descent was already near.