Uritus watched the woman in the street for a moment while he buttoned his shirt. He knew that even if she looked up she would not see him there in the dark window. He took a deep breath of the night air and let it out slowly. Watching this woman walk away with her long dark hair made him remember a dozen women just like her, if lacking a certain grace that this one had. Times were different now. When he was younger, the mere fact that he was the eldest son of the Emperor would have any woman in the empire jumping at any chance to please him. He realized that this was still true, but he himself had changed. He of course had desires, just like any man, but over his lifetime he had honed himself into a great weapon. He understood that he was the next in line to rule Medora, and in the past few years he had devoted himself almost totally to preparing for his coming reign. While not many knew his agenda or his beliefs, he was a man dedicated to his cause.
His father and the countless fathers before him had all been so foolish. They were like children handed an expensive and lavishly decorated sword; either too weak to wield it properly, or too stupid to know how to keep it shining and in one piece. The sword he would be handed was dinged, damaged and dull, even though it still seemed bright and beautiful to those who did not know any better.
He rolled his shoulders as if shaking off the coming responsibility. It was going to be easy for him to fix the empire anyway, if everything went according to plan. But his plan could easily turn to dust because of its enormity. This wasn't as simple as going to war and taking land, or bartering a deal with a neighboring country. This was a grand plan, one that ensured he would be remembered as the greatest ruler of all time. His soul swelled with joy as he thought about the victory he envisioned. He just had to be careful and do everything according to plan.
He went over to a table in the dark room to light a candle. He didn't care for candles. The gods made the night dark, and he felt as if he was showing them disrespect by cutting a hole in that darkness with man-made light. Of course, he didn't have the same feeling about finding shelter from the daylight. It was the darkness, the blackness, the silent weight of the night that he revered. For him the night seemed like it went on forever, like the world only existed right there around him, and beyond there was nothing but infinite blackness. A smile spread across his face.
"Uritus, can't you stay a little longer?" came a voice from the bed in the center of the room. The room lit with a pale glow as the candle struggled against the blackness. His smile was soured by a slight sneer as he saw the little flame dancing triumphantly.
"No my dear. I have seen soldiers moving in the city all evening, and my father has no idea where I am. He worries for me, I'm sure, and I must return to the Emperor's Hall. I would stay the night, but I fear there is trouble in the city."
He did not face her but he saw her reflection in the mirror before him. She sat in the bed, wrapped in a white satin sheet hugging her knees. Her pleading look turned to sadness as she realized he was not going to stay. She looked down at her feet sticking out from her sheet.
"I am a busy man, you know. I have important things to do before I become Emperor."
She always lit up with a smile when she was reminded of his coming glory. She had always wanted to be with someone who was powerful, and she used her looks to seduce men ever since she discovered the talent. Uritus didn't fall for it though. Yes, he was moved by her looks and her charm, and he even cared for her, but if she was expecting to share his coming power, she was sadly mistaken. She was probably too simpleminded to truly understand power anyway, but she would be happy enough just to be the wife of the Emperor. She would play an important role though, since the people would probably feel better with a female figurehead. There had not been a maternal figure for the people of Medora since his mother died when his younger brother was born. He was six years old, but he could not remember much about her.
"Uritus, I don't want you to go. I don't want to be alone. You have stayed before, you can stay again tonight. Please Uri?"
He finally turned to face her. She had hooked her long, straight black hair behind her ears like she always did when she was trying to be cute. She probably learned the little trick using it on one of the other men in her past. When he said nothing, she crossed her arms over her knees and rested her chin on them, like a child might do when a parent says no. She stared out the window at the fiery temples on the mountain.
"I understand if you don't want to stay," she said softly.
"Mirra, you know I want to stay. But I have a duty to the people. I'll be back soon, maybe even tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is no good. I'm sure Rommus will want me to meet him by the cliffs. I remembered too late that I was supposed to go there today, and you know how he is."
It didn't bother him that she had not ended her relationship with Rommus. If it were anyone else, it would have, but this was different. She claimed that she couldn't bring herself to hurt him. Uritus didn't care what the truth was. He let things play out naturally just to see what plan the gods had in store. He smiled as he thought about how maybe this time it was him who had a plan for the gods.
She mistook his smile as a message to her. "You smile as if you want me to go see him. Do you?"
Her eyebrows rose almost as if she was worried. He didn't answer and instead went back to the window. She reorganized her satin sheets around her as she tried to think of something piercing and clever to say to him. Nothing came to her mind.
Uritus looked out over his city. Things were going to change, and the tide was coming soon. So far everything was going as planned, and he prayed to Inshae that this whole thing would work. But he didn't have to pray anymore. Inshae knew his plan, he was sure of it. He decided he had better leave before it got too late. He was lying about a duty to his people, but he couldn't very well tell her what he was going to do. He turned and walked to the corner where he had placed his things, and began to gather them.
"You're just going to leave like that?" Mirra asked.
He knew that treating her this way kept her interested in him. All the other men before him probably did whatever she asked as soon as she asked it of them. It was probably boring to her, so he ignored her half the time. It was easier than explaining his every move anyway.
He picked up a large sack and a long wooden box and threw the sack over his shoulder. He closed her bedroom door behind him so that he would hear her open it if she tried to follow him. He couldn't let her see what he was going to do. He navigated his way through the dark house through memory alone. These houses were pretty much the same anyway, each connected to the next all the way down the street. He hurried down the marble stairs and paused to listen when he came to the front door. He heard no door opening upstairs, so he opened his sack and removed a large black robe hemmed with red satin. He threw it over his head quickly since he knew it would be hard to hear Mirra's door with all the fabric rustling past his ears. He tossed the empty sack on the floor, knowing that she would find it and consider it some sort of mysterious gift of love. He shook his head at her childish ways, but with a smile on his face. Picking up his long wooden box, he opened the door and stepped out into the night.
Being a Mage brought its own heavy responsibilities. A Mage was never to reveal his true identity, and that proved to be very difficult. For years the Mages cultivated the idea that they could speak to the gods and even use magic, but once one enters the sect, he finds it to all be lies. That was until he discovered the book.
The Book of Oderion. The true book, not the one written by the Mages hundreds of years ago to replace the original they had lost. The high-ranking Mages kept the contents of the true book so secret that almost none of them knew what was in it, and so when it was rewritten, most of it was made up. Uritus understood why the original was so well-protected; it held the secret to unravel everything and rebuild the world as he saw fit. It also told him where to find the particular artifact he kept inside the plain wooden box so as not to draw attention to it. It was deserving of a much grander case, o
f solid gold and studded with jewels, for this item was much more valuable than all of the riches in Medora combined.
He made his way to the next street and turned right toward the Temple of Inshae. He passed a few guards, but they saw he was a Mage and let him pass without hindrance. What fools they were. Superstition made them fear the Mages, who were harmless, but any dangerous person could wear a black cloak or robe in this city and go wherever he chose, free to commit almost any crime. All this because people feared the Mages and their pretend powers. He laughed at their lack of intelligence and reason, and at their trust in the Mages they so feared. He figured that the personal guards of the Emperor would not be afraid to kill a Mage, but just about every other soldier backed off.
The marble city was blue in the full moon light. It was getting late enough that most of the city's windows were dark, but the temples on the mountain still ruined the perfect darkness. When he became Emperor, he would swiftly put a stop to that ridiculous tradition. He made his way up the cobblestone street and found himself at the temple steps much sooner than he thought he would. He walked up the steps and entered the massive structure.
Inside it was dark, but large openings in the roof let in the moonlight. The clever architects kept most of the rain from entering the temples by using mirrors to bounce the light in at angles, rather than just having the ceiling open to the sky. Most of the temple was made of white marble, but black marble was used for accents. In the center of the floor was a huge circular pattern made of the black marble that somewhat resembled a flower. All the columns inside the temple were black, and topped with capitals covered in pure silver. In fact, silver was used everywhere that the black marble met the white. He wasn't sure of the reason for it, but he assumed it was some old superstition about keeping the dark spirit of Inshae from being able to enter the precious white city of Brinn from this temple. He laughed to himself at the people who must have built this temple, knowing nothing of the truth.
He crossed the floor and came to an altar at the back of the huge open room. Above him stood a towering statue of Inshae himself, with moonlight falling on his hood and shoulders. The imposing black figure seemed to suck all sound from the room, leaving nothing but a heavy silence. He thought about how difficult it must have been to carve an accurate statue of a god who in reality appears to be made of nothing more than dust and mist. He looked up at the statue, staring down at him with his empty eye sockets, his skull face devoid of a mouth, and heavy robes cascading to the floor. Inshae was said to be unable to speak, but he was able to whisper directly into one's mind. He bowed his head reverently and felt behind the altar, finding the round carving of a flower he was looking for. He pressed at the center and it slid into the back of the altar. The floor shook as the flower pattern in the center of the room began to slowly fall away into the floor, creating a circular staircase of black marble. An orange glow appeared from below and he quickly made his way down the steps before the mechanism reset itself.
Down below there was no white marble at all. Everything was as black as death, with the exception of the torches burning on the walls of the large circular room. Many hooded men stood in a circle awaiting his arrival. Some had purple satin accents on their robes, some blue, and some had no accents at all. The colors were meant to signal the rank of the Mage, and since names where seldom used, they called each other by rank, or sometimes simply "brother". But their identities were no secret to each other. The omission of names was simply a formality.
As the stairs grinded back into position, Uritus made his way to the center of the circle where a black altar rose from the floor with its own grinding sound. He placed his wooden box carefully in the center in reverence for the item inside. He felt a warm pride rise inside him. From this night onward, there would be no more skeptics. No one would doubt the power of the Mages or their ability to shape the world. Starting with the men in this room, the whole world was about to change.
"Brethren," Uritus said as he turned from the altar, "this night, we finally control the shifting sands of fate. We have been handed a power that all the Mages before us could only dream of."
He turned as he spoke, looking into the darkness under the hoods of each man, knowing their eyes were intent upon him. "Soon we will not only make it possible for Inshae to truly walk among us, but also control Arius as well. In time we will unlock the secrets to controlling all the gods, and we will pave the path for Inshae to become more powerful than Oderion himself!"
The men all raised an arm, bent at the elbow as a salute to their leader. Cheering was inappropriate in such a sacred room, so a simple salute would have to do.
Uritus approached the altar as he continued. "Capture is no longer necessary. When you see him, kill him."
He slowly opened the box. He knew that when these men saw what was inside, that they would no longer have any sort of doubt. All their blind following would be blind no more.
He reached inside and pulled out the item, glowing gold as it caught the torchlight. The men gasped in awe as the sparkling artifact lit the room. Most of them shrunk back, feeling unworthy to be near it.
This was from the world of the gods.
This was the golden sword of Arius.