Chapter 11
Prophecy
The Looker sprang to his feet. Sweat dripped from his thick brow and trickled down the pale skin of his face. Another part of the prophecy just revealed itself to him, a glimpse of the not so distant future that troubled his soul. The Looker, whose skin had the texture of weathered leather, hobbled away from the Sands of Seeing, using his deadwood staff as a crutch. Step by step he descended the spiral staircase that lead to the Sands of Seeing, the highest point of the golden tower. The Looker navigated his way through narrow corridor after narrow corridor until he arrived at a thick wooden door. He knocked three times with the end of his staff.
"Come in," a soft voice answered.
The Looker pushed open the heavy door and entered.
"How may I assist you, Looker?" asked the Wizard behind the desk.
"Caussius, I fear the worst. I have been revealed another glimpse of the prophecy," the Looker said, his eyes large and trembling.
Caussius was leader of the Mazzers, a select lot of Wizards charged with defending Fogarth. The Mazzers did not have the sheer magical abilities that the Master Wizards possessed, or the reserves of magic for that fact. They honed their magic for the battlefield. Instead of unleashing spells one after another, the Mazzers used their magic in short bursts. Instead of staffs, they wielded short deadwood scepters in one hand, and a bladed weapon of their choosing in the other. A perfect combination of magic and might.
Their lack of the traditional robes showed off their chiseled physique. They wore magically imbued suits of armor forged from craszik, an ore known only to the Wizards of Fogarth. When compared to the other ores in Calencia, craszik's durability could be questioned, but it was the only ore capable of holding magical enchantments. Craszik armor had a light, bright blue appearance, but once enchanted, it glowed a fierce yellow. The magical enchantments provided the Mazzers with extra protection while in battle.
Their weapons, also constructed from craszik, were blue, but glowed with a bright red aura. The magical enchantments added to their weapons gave an otherwise unremarkable blade devastating magical properties. Fire, electricity and ice helped the craszik blades become much more deadly than the blue blades would have been on their own.
The Mazzers trained their entire lives but never once engaged in actual battle. No being had ever been foolish enough to attack Fogarth. Even though their chances for battle had always been slim to none, the Mazzers acted as if war could erupt at any moment.
"What do you fear, Looker?" Caussius asked. "What did you see?"
The Looker told Caussius what he witnessed in the Sands of Seeing. The Mazzers face fell expressionless.
"Are you certain?" Caussius asked.
"Yes. I am certain," the old Looker replied.
I hope you are mistaken. Caussius stood from his chair and said, "This is a rather unexpected turn of events. We shall prepare at once."
"How many Mazzers are in your command?" asked the Looker.
"Five, six counting myself," he said.
"Only six Mazzers?" The Looker sounded shocked. "What do you expect to do with just six of you?"
Caussius's brow narrowed, and a cold look came over him. Is he trying to insult me? "Six Mazzers are worth more than a thousand Human soldiers," Caussius said, sounding like the Looker just insulted his honor. "Besides, our fate is already written. You saw it with your own eyes."
"Caussius," he pleaded. "Do not think such thoughts."
"Why?" Caussius asked. “There is no changing the prophecy once revealed."
What Caussius said was true, somewhat. Once the Sands revealed a prophecy, that vision would come true. There were tales of prophecies being altered, but those feats were rare. Could one change the outcome of a prophecy? Caussius did not think so, but on this day he would hope.
Caussius dismissed the Looker, ordering him to seek the Reachers and have one of them attempt to contact Locmire. After that, he was to warn the other Wizards about the prophecy, and then take the Sands into hiding.
Caussius made his way to the training quarters. He stepped into the room to the song of blades striking one another, and the loud pops and cracks of spells being cast.
My favorite melody. "Attention!" Caussius called out in a stern voice.
Five Mazzers halted their training exercises and fell into formation.
Caussius was the largest Mazzer by far. He stood six feet tall and appeared half as wide. Slight wrinkles on his face signified his experience. Five, gray, mohawk-like rows of hair sat on his partially shaven head.
Caussius's weapon of choice was a one handed war axe, imbued with the magical properties of lightning. A deadwood scepter hung from his side.
"Mazzers," he said, as he walked back and forth in front of them. "The time has come. We are soon to be met with battle."
The Mazzer's eyes lit up as Caussius spoke the words they so desired to hear all of their lives.
"Before you get too excited, I must tell you of the situation, as it was told to me," Caussius said.
He told the Mazzers what the Looker revealed to him. They stood silent; their happy expressions faded.
Jasix stepped forward and said, "It does not matter. We are bred for war. This is our purpose. We may not stand victorious, but we will kill many. We will make a difference."
This short, but heartfelt speech ignited the fires within his fellow Mazzers once more. They erupted in cheers, pumping their weapons in the air. Caussius motioned for them to calm.
"Now that we all know what gruesome fate lies before us . . . let us prepare for war! We shall strike down thousands of the Dark Wizard's horde! We will fight till the death, taking down as many of these abominations as we can." He marched back and forth rallying his troops. "Our time is now! Let us embrace our destinies."
Caussius, Jasix, Nabee, Vaden, Boll, and Yestin gathered their tools of war and began the preparations for battle. Today's training would have a renewed purpose.