The Dawn rose over Hilaron. In the streets cords begin to grow around the market and the Place, which doubled as the King's law court. Travelers arrived in the mooring hours from nearby Jiron and Scion, here for the Festival of the winter solstice. Among the traveler's entering the city was a white garbed rider with purpose in his eyes. He looked at the ancient stone buildings, and the new wooden ones beside them. He rode through the streets, making his way to the palace of the king. There was much to be done before his plan could bear fruit.
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The purple robed sorcerer awoke groggily. He looked around his stark stone chamber in the soft early morning sun. He smiled. He glanced at the tattered banner on the wall. It had been recovered after a battle 100 years ago where a thousand strong Jiron army had been outwitted and outmaneuvered by less then a hundred Hilaronain soldiers led by King Jasius III The battle was legendary, the banner an expensive trophy on the surface. But to him it was a reminder of his shame. If he had just succeeded, if he had killed the genius king, and opened the gate, rather then be uncovered, the banner on his wall would be flying above the keep where he now slept. Just one more thing to do, and his plan would be complete. He got up and made his way to the City Temple to set the final spell.
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The children played gayly in the street, celebrating the solstice with sweet treats and happy songs. The Silver clad magician looked at them fondly. However he could not terry long, and hurried on to his magic lessons at the City Temple.
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The City Temple stood regal and majestic in the town square, across from the King's Royal Keep. It's tall spire reached up to scrap the sky, and it's stone walls were covered on stain glass windows depicting both gods and heroes. It's Bells tolled out the hours, and today, it was overcrowded with visitors paying token respect to the gods on this the winter solstice. On it's steps stood two figures, one dressed in Purple, the other in Silver. Both made their way inside. The purple clad figure made his way to the stairs, and down into the underground chambers that housed the relics and food stores. The Silver clad one made his way through the temple sanctuary back to the hidden classroom behind the alter of Asmos, the God of Magic.
The Purple clad figure reached the lowest level of the catacombs, and begin to weave his intricate pattern through the air, summoning vibrant violet energies to him, and working his magic.
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Right at that moment, just as the purple clad sorcerer was beginning to weave his spell, the Silver clad magician sat down in his seat, and begin to wait for his instructor priest. Curiously, as he sat and begin to concentrate in preparation for magic , a distant memory flashed before him. He was sitting in his bed in his last life, preparing to sleep, when a runner came into the temple, shouting breathlessly that a traitor had been caught, and was being taken to the river by the King's men. He had run out to see, and had been just in time to watch the man cursing and screaming a he sank beneath the surface, tied down by a heavy chain.
The sat up in his chair. He remembered thinking as we witnessed the sight that he would never go into the intrigue filled world of politics. He remembered clearly the Jeering and cursing of the crowd, and the stone-faced king Jasius III standing there besides his solders on the east bridge. The man who went into the water had tried to poison the king and had conspired to open the city gates to an Jiron army.
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The Purple-clad sorcerer finished his pell. The enrages had gone into the ground. Now the final one had been laid. In 3 days, on the Kings birthday, he would strike.
As he made his way out of the catacombs into the temple, he looked over the shrines and the priests attending them, and the many visitors. Heh, the naive fools. They had no Idea of what lay in store for them, though of course, he reasoned, perhaps he was the naive one. Always in the back of his mind, he reasoned that perhaps this was just like last time. Granted this time he knew the secrets of sorcerery, but last time he had thought his intimate knowledge of the king, the city and the court would protect him. He busily walked out of the Temple, but as he did, a silvery figure caught his gaze. He looked into the mans eyes, and something didn't quite fit. the man's eyes were so simple, so devoid of deceit, and yet he looked around with such a sharp gaze, seeing everything. Those eye's frightened him. Quickly he hurried on. Now to wait for his plan to come to fruition.
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The Sliver-clad magician gave the retreating back of the purple clad sorcerer a sound glance. Interesting how his eyes looked so guilty. Always shifting back and forth. Well, he probably had stolen an apple or something of that sort. Nothing to worry about. He thought as the Walked about. Strange, the temple's energy flow feels different. Perhaps it's all the visitors? Sudden;y something in the back of his mind clicked, and like a flash an ancient memory came flooding back. As a long gone city made of wood and mud-brick burned, a figure raced out of the gate, through the crowd of simple peasants. The man's eyes Had been just like the purple wearing man's and in the memory the figure had been holding a torch.
Quickly he turned and raced into the streets to find the man, but in the sea of faces he saw no purple. The man was gone. He turned back to the Temple. I wonder what exactly he did? The magician thought to himself as he sent out a pulse of energy through the temple. I can't sense any lingering spells….. perhaps I should tell the priests. His mind made up, he set about to do exactly that.
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Chapter notes: This chapter continues the character development, and starts to develop the plot. Thank you for reading. If you like it, thank you for enjoying :)
Chapter end notes: (Alright ,a little action, but mainly character development. Hopefully things will flow more smoothly in the next chapter.)