Read Ahlea Warrior Girls: The Sacred Statue Page 7
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At the same time, far away from the cursed mountain and from the land of Ro-Oth, and even further from Ahleyn, the largest and northernmost island of the Magical sea, Island of Mages, inside a small, ruinous stone castle, a daily ritual of renewal was held.
The inhabitants of this island were the only ones who knew this ritual. He supplied them with a prolonged life for hundreds of years from now. There was twenty of them and they were not afraid that someone would find the secret behind their ceremony. For several reasons, it was not possible.
A gray island was covered mainly with dry, infertile soil, almost completely parched by tremendously strong and icy north wind, which constantly blew up its plains. Neither the toughest plants made no effort to sprout, although the wind sometimes carried seeds from distant countries.
Human foot did not set there for thousands of years. The cold North Sea, the dangers that wind brought and the ice, have deterred all brave attempts to go so far north. The only two-legged creatures who were able, thank their powers, to take this ground, were those for which the island was named, and to whom it had been the only home for so long.
The mages performed this quite monotonous ritual in the largest hall of the castle, just as awkward as all the other rooms were, for more than two hundred thousand times, day after day, for most of their lives. Surprisingly, it never started to get on their nerves. They had too much appreciation for life and tried hard to keep it, because they knew all the pleasures that it could provide, especially with the help of magic. But the full enjoyment of life they had not felt for centuries, this ugly and lifeless island could not provide it to them, and they haven’t felt any other ground under their feet for a countless number of years.
Suddenly, in the middle of the ritual, wizards felt something strange and unusual for this ceremony, a powerful surge of energy passing through their bodies. They had experienced similar tremors while performing magic, they knew many rituals that had some influence on the body, in this or similar ways. But this was obviously something else. The ritual of renewal was not one of those spells and did not contain any physical effects on the body. Besides that, contrary to most others, this wave was incredibly pleasant. It filled the magicians with fantastic power, the kind that they had not felt for centuries.
It gave them back an old feeling of complete control over all the abilities that their bodies could provide, as well as a heightened sense of control over the environment. Ritual words stopped and all magicians stood for a while like stones. They looked at each other, or at their own hands and other body parts, partly confused, but mostly delighted by this incredible experience.
And then one of them enthusiastically put a smile and said:
“Magic of Tarlaeth is interrupted.”
He turned to the window that showed south and to the distant Continent, for which they had strongly yearned for an infinite number of days. Then he strongly exclaimed “Liberation!”
As in a trance, other mages immediately followed shouting in delirium: “Liberation! Liberation!”