Part 2 Chapter 1

Chapter 1

            Tyrell slouched against the wall as the barmaid brought another a drink. “Feeling alright, hon?” Tyrell looked over at her. She was looking at his stack of empty mugs. He acknowledged within himself that he had had too much to drink. Tyrell shook his head and brought a hand to his face. “No, not really.” He admitted through his hand. “I just lost a lot of my friends in a battle about a month ago.” The girl sat down next to him and began collecting his discarded cups. “How much is a lot?” She had an innocent way of asking that meant no real harm. However, it did to Tyrell. “All of ‘em. Down to the last man.” He downed his new drink in a single gulp.

            In the meanwhile, Alec was out doing any kind of work to earn a living. This day alone he had worked seven different jobs all across the capital city of Atlantis. He was lifting a box off the edge of a skiff when he saw it. A single green flare shot out over the walls and over the city center. With practiced dexterity and mechanical actions, all civilians evacuated the streets. All but Alec, who was sprinting down the empty streets to find Tyrell. He found him in the pub.

            “Tyrell, it’s happening!” The Aeon shook his head and waved an empty mug. “I know. I saw it too. But I’m-” He paused to thank the barmaid, “But I’m not getting involved.” He sighed contentedly after a sip. “I love this stuff. It is a special mead that Col makes out of peaches.” He leaned back and rest his boots on the table. “You know Alec,” Tyrell tapped his shoulder with his free hand, “Magic acts like alcohol. It gets in the blood and makes messes with yer mind. Only, instead of getting drunk, you get super strong. However, the two of them are always at odds. Different magics do different things.” Tyrell took another gulp. “So?” Alec asked.

            “Means when I get drunk, I lose control of my magic. Ya might want to stand back a bit.” Tyrell tossed the mug onto the table and put his arms behind his head. A soldier opened the door. “A flare misfired earlier today. Thank you for your cooperation; you may resume activity.” As soon as the soldier left, Tyrell jokingly slapped Alec. “See? False alarm. Get your act together, and calm down.”

            “But don’t you even care?” Tyrell paused. A look of sorrow crossed his face before the mead turned it to anger. “Do I even care? Am I the one looking to throw away my life in order to get revenge?” Tyrell jumped up and pushed Alec back. “Ivan was a father to me. Calvin was my brother. I am dealing with a whole lot more than you are, Alec.” Alec stumbled a bit and tried to speak. “Sheesh, getting rowdy this early?” Alec snapped to attention as General Norton walked in. The general gave the boy a questioning glance. “Sorry, sir. Reflexes.”

            “Well fix ‘em. I hate clockwork soldiers.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Sir Tyrell.” Tyrell nodded. “Or should I call you ‘The Necromancer’?” Tyrell looked around before speaking. “What do you want, Norton?” Norton actually smiled. That was the worst part. “Well, I was hoping you would be completely drunk by now. Sadly, I guess I need to deal with the both of you when sober.” The general then proceeded to down a flask of some unknown liquid. He shuddered afterward. “Now that I am intoxicated enough to deal with you people.” Norton reached into his pouch and handed Tyrell a letter sealed with Col’s Royal Insignia.

            “From the Emperor?” Tyrell nodded and motioned Alec to be quiet. He slowly opened it and glared at the paper. He sighed and folded it up neatly. Tyrell then returned the letter to its envelope and sealed the letter with magic. The wax seal melted, leaving the imprint of Tyrell’s thumb. He then returned the letter to Norton. “Let us be done with this.” Norton sighed and shook his head. “I hate stubborn people.” He took another swig from his flask. “That’s some good stuff.” He wiped his mouth. “Alright, follow me.” The General lead the way through the city. Alec began speaking with Tyrell as they approached the castle. “What was the letter about?”

            “None of your business, Alec.” Tyrell said. “C’mon, Tyrell! I want to know.” Tyrell just shook his head. “It had nothing to do with you. So drop it.” Tyrell kept pace with Norton. Alec began to mull over what the letter could have been. “Was it a request for help?”

            “No.”

            “A job?”

            “No.”

            “A commendation?”

            “I’m being indicted, Alec.” The boy looked at Tyrell oddly. “What does that mean?” Tyrell looked over his shoulder at him. “Means I’m getting arrested. Now quiet, or they will get you too.” Alec put his hand on his sword. “Then run! We can get away from Norton easily.”

            “Ain’t just him, kid.” Tyrell pointed up to the rooftops, into the alleyways, and into the crowds in the market place. “Thirty-two in all, if I’m not mistaken.”

            “Forty, actually.” Norton said. “You forgot the attack dogs. I hate those mutts, but they count on the battlefield.” Tyrell took a second look and noted the hounds. This elicited a laugh from the mercenary. “I wonder what’s got the emperor all excited? Did he think I would put up a fight?” Norton laughed along with him. “Right?” The two laughed. “It’s almost as if he’s inviting the most dangerous man in Col to his palace.” Norton said. To continue his sarcasm, he laughed some more before yelling. “I doubled, tripled, then quadrupled the amount of soldiers I was going to bring. He may fear you, but I still hate you.”

            “And that means what to me?”

            “If I had my way, I’d ‘ave spiked your drinks. All of ‘em. With different poisons. Maybe even had the barmaid stab you a few times.” Alec jumped in front of Norton. His focus began glowing. “I’ll not stand for your disrespect!” A look of boredom filled Norton’s face. Alec drew Manah. “Put that toy away before you hurt yourself.” Alec grit his teeth and rushed forward. In a flash of steel and light, both parties had swung their weapons. Alec’s blade met Norton’s gauntlet, and Alec was sent flying. “Filthy mages. You think that you can just, walk all over us ungifted, huh?” Alec struggled to his feet. “I’ll say it once more, because I hate repeating myself. Put that sword away, mage, before I break your ribs.” Alec opened his mouth slightly. “All of them.” Alec closed his jaw and growled. “I thought so.” A few soldiers arrived to further accompany Norton. And all of them surrounded Alec.

            At the stairs of the castle, the Royal Guard took over. It only took one man. Something about his presence was terrifying enough to cripple Alec with fear. Once in the lobby, Tyrell and Alec were led forward towards the throne room. “Welcome to your courtroom. Try not to grovel too loudly.” The doors swung open, revealing three people seated on three thrones. The royal family sat perfectly still. Each had a look of distain on his or her face. The queen sat on a small side throne to the Emperor’s right. She was a frail looking woman with dark brown hair. Her features were sickly, but still had an air of elegance and of authority.

            On the emperor’s left sat Princess Chrystal. She had her mother’s dark hair and green eyes, but her complexion was healthier. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and she wore a tiara. To further the similarities with her mother, they both toyed with the same cuff of their blue dresses in the same way. As the General entered the room, she stood and curtsied. Her father put a hand on her shoulder. The touch was fatherly, gentle, but it got the message across. She sat. Then the ruler stood himself.

            “Convict Tyrell: you stand before Emperor Rickard Col the Third. Have you prepared yourself?” Tyrell nodded. “Yes, your majesty.” The man that bellowed across the chamber was a person of average build. He was much older than Tyrell looked. His hair had much more grey than black and his eyes had faded to gray-brown. He stood shorter than his wife, and was probably shorter than Alec. He wore a pair of dark trousers and a plain white shirt. Over that, he wore ceremonial armor and his royal robes. At his side hung both of Col’s Imperial Arms: Excalibur and Euroclydon. These weapons were both magical swords used by the first Emperor of Col when he united the land.

            “And who is this?” Alec gave his name. “Did I give you permission to speak?” The emperor asked. He then commanded that Alec kneel. “I refuse.” Norton punched him in the chest. “Hold! Please your majesty, forgive his indiscretion. This is my trial, not his.” Tyrell dropped to both knees. “I am prepared.” Alec finally dropped to his knee and glared at the Emperor. “Very well. I will forgive. Now then,” The sat and pointed to Tyrell, “You stand accused. Know ye of your crimes?” Tyrell nodded. “Yes sir.” Was his somber reply. Norton nodded and handed the emperor the letter. “I see you sealed it.”

            “I had no intention of coming in chains. I will be civil about this matter.” Alec glanced at Tyrell. It was like he had become a different person. Tyrell was no longer a gruff mercenary. He was talking like he was a senator or some noble. “Very well. Then I shall pass my judgement.” He called for his scepter. A servant rushed from outside, bearing the staff. The brass cane, the scepter, was topped with a perfectly spherical green emerald. “By my authority as Emperor, I have reached my verdict. Are you ready to receive your judgement, Tyrell the Necromancer?” Tyrell nodded. “Yes, milord. I await.” All was still in the room.

            “I hereby sentence thee to death.” Norton stood behind Tyrell and drew his sword. “At your order, your majesty.” Alec jumped up and cried out. “How is this justice?” A royal guard reached out and grabbed Alec. He thrust the boy to his knees and held a blade to his throat. “Last straw, Mercenary.”      

            “Hold, soldier.” Norton said and nodded towards the Emperor. “You will not defy my judgements, boy.” The emperor said. “I am not some lax ruler. Obey me and show me due reverence or die by my hand.”

            “But I –” His complaint was cut short by a light prod with the tip of a sword. “This is my land. My judgements are final. My rulings are law. This country is my church and I am its god.” Alec grumbled. “Yes, your majesty.” Rickard took a deep breath and composed himself. “Guardsman, the boy shall keep his life for now. As for you, Tyrell, I have some grave news for you.” Tyrell looked up. “My son was at your first trial. His judgement and mine condemned you. He has, however, perished against the rebel forces. Now, another second is needed to condemn you.” Tyrell grimaced as Chrystal rose from her throne. “Convict Tyrell; The law states that a necromancer may have up to two hours to flee from this place before his death is ordered. Should I condemn you, shall you flee?”

            “No, your highness. I am done fleeing. Should you choose, I shall not run.” Tyrell sounded as old as he looked. Alec tried to say something, but the sword was pushed further against his throat. “Then I am ready to issue my judgement. Mother?” The queen nodded and spoke from her chair. “I shall echo my daughter’s judgement.” The two woman exchanged nodded before facing the convicts.

            “By my authority, I declare that Tyrell the Necromancer be acquitted of his crimes.” Tyrell kept his head bowed, but breathed a sigh of relief. “So long,” She continued. Alec and Tyrell gave each other looks of fear as she kept speaking. “So long as he lends his power to Col against the rebels. If he refuses, then I mark him for death.” Norton smirked behind Tyrell’s back. Rickard stamped the floor with his scepter. “My second has spoken. Her judgement shall hold fast. Do you accept this judgement, necromancer?”

            Tyrell leaned forward and put his hands on the ground before the emperor. “As my lady commands, so shall I do. From henceforth, I shall serve as a soldier in your forces. May my life bring you victory.”

            “Then it is decided. Tyrell the Necromancer, you shall fill rebel Xander’s position as Gran Magus of the Royal army until the conflict is resolved. Glory to Col.” Norton put his sword away. In a booming voice he spoke the words of the oath. “Glory to Col, and life to her Emperor!” Every soldier in the room chanted this as Tyrell slowly rose to his feet. He snapped his feet together and put his left arm to his side. He then rose his right hand to a Col salute. He took a deep breath. “Glory to Col, and life to her Emperor.” He spun on his heels and marched out of the hall.