From Light, comes Chaos

By: Chryenth Posted on: June 05, 2011

The Crystal Leaf Inn has some unusual clientele. People come from all over the
world to drink here, close to the crossroads that lie north of New Thera. It's
been some time since I last came by this way, actually. But here I was, sent
from Shallam at the express order of the Ambassador - or at least, an aide to
the office - on official business. Business that doesn't bear much thinking
about - I was here to hunt down a man that had left Shallam, without word or
warning. My mentor, Vaenian.

I shivered as the cold night wind blows gently at my cloak. At least I could get
inside soon...

The Inn itself is impressive, but not so much as the crowds. There were dozens
of men and women of all species milling about, drinking, talking and laughing.
Their casual ease felt a little odd, as I was tense and jumpy. I dodged my way
towards the bar, slipping awkwardly between a pair of drunken satyrs and a
rather tipsy-looking siren. The bartender, a bulky man with a riotous beard,
took my order for an ale with a nod and my gold with a smile. I tried to ignore
the advances of the satyrs on my right whilst I debated asking the bartender if
he knew the whereabouts of Vaenian, but there was no need. As I picked up my ale
and took a sip, a figure in the mirror behind the bar caught my eye. He had
broad shoulders and a short black beard, and was sitting next to the stairs,
alone.

Bingo, I thought.

Normally, I wouldn't have moved so quickly, but between the intoxicating effects
of the ale - I was, and still am, the most lightweight drinker in Shallam - and
the advances of the obnoxious redheaded satyr, encouraged by a marginally more
sober drinking companion, prompted me to strike out a little. I began threading
my way non-too-subtly toward where my target sat.

Apparently he didn't want to talk to me - before I was halfway across the room,
he glanced in my direction and promptly vanished upstairs. I was left with a
choice between following and going back to the bar and the satyrs. I redoubled
my efforts to get through the crowd, reaching the stairs just a handful of
seconds after my target. Abandoning any pretense of subtlety, I charged up the
rickety staircase and emerged-

-on a landing with three closed doors. I stood for a long moment, eyes flicking
from door to door. Vaenian was hiding behind one, but which one? There was no
way of telling from here...

The door to the left of the staircase swung inwards. I jerked around to face it,
one hand instinctively reaching into the Rift, the other clenching and extending
various fingers, forming a bolt of lightning-

The startled grook yelled something at me, presumably in Grook. He was wearing
nothing but a bathrobe, a rope belt and a ridiculous top hat. I apologized
quickly, stepping aside to let the fuming amphibian down the stairs. As he left,
grumbling under his breath, I turned back to the doors. Well, the choice was
down to two now...

I decided not to waste any more time.

With one gesture, I coated my hands in dense granite. With another pass, I
created a brief orb of water that revealed Vaenian's location. Then I took the
unsubtle route, and punched the door just above the lock.

There was a loud CRACK as the door opened, sending a shower of splinters up from
the doorframe. Vaenian stood with his back to me, facing out of the window. I
mentally thanked Lady Miramar that he was still fully clothed. Else this could
have been awkward. Or rather, more awkward than it already promised to be.

'Criasenna.' The same disinterested monotone that I remembered floated towards
me. It had been some time since I had last heard it.

I swallowed nervously. 'Vaenian.'

'Why have you come here?' That was Vaenian all over, no small talk.

'I was sent to find you, of course. The Ambassador wants to talk to you, in
person, and so does-'

'Criasenna.' His voice had become stricter, as if admonishing me for a mistake.
Even after several years out from his tutelage, I found myself inwardly cringing
a little.

'If the Ambassador had anything to say to me, then he could have sent me a
letter requesting an audience, or come himself. Why did you come here?'

And there it was - the crux of the problem. Why had I come? Why had I
volunteered for this, my first official task to take me outside the city? The
answer was obvious, at least to me, but I had to swallow against a lump in my
throat to speak.

'I came because it was you. You walked out of Shallam, and out of my life, and
you didn't tell anyone. I'm not just here to tell you to come back. I'm here to
find out why you left.'

The silence that followed was almost total. It felt like a yawning chasm into
which my words had been sucked with as much resistance as an old letter eaten by
a starved humgii. Then I heard a sound which I had never encountered before.

Vaenian laughed.

It was a low, hoarse sound that out me in mind of a certain Gnoll that I once
had the displeasure to meet. Rather, it would have if I wasn't so bewildered
that I started reaching into the Rift for herbs to cure my confusion.

'You ask why I left? Have you looked at Shallam's administration lately? Nothing
but corruption and nepotism, top to bottom!' This outburst was sufficiently out
of character that I didn't interrupt. 'Every month, every week, we suffer raids
by Ashtani and Mhaldorians, and our leaders do nothing but lead gangs of
peasants and helpless scholars with no training to their deaths, over and over.
I left because I can no longer support a city whose Light is so tarnished.'

I stood, and thought. I wasn't blind - thirty five years of service after the
Trial had served to show me the lowest depths my city could sink to - but these
were heavy charges indeed. It was true that the recent elections hadn't gone
nearly the way anyone had expected, what with the Caliph's incompetent moron of
a younger brother being voted into office, and we did suffer regular raids that
sapped supplies, morale and lives. I banished such thoughts and focused - I was
here to bring Vaenian back, after all - but a nugget of doubt remained.

''So where will you go, then? Back to your wife in Eleusis?'

Damn, I didn't mean to ask that! But, it was too late to worry about it now.

Vaenian frowned. 'That's ex-wife, and she lives in Ashtan now, and yes, I was
going to join her for a while. Why?'

I stuttered. 'I m- I di- What I meant was-' and then I fell silent, choking back
tears. For just a moment I felt like I was falling, as if I was a novice failing
one of Vaenian's tests - which I did often - as if, in fact, a cornerstone
figure in my life had suddenly told me he was going to join the enemy.

So I stood, eyes wet with tears, thinking of something to say. Summoning the
courage to leave the room. To ask a question. To move. Anything. And the Vaenian
threw me off kilter again.

'You should come with me. I seem to remember the Warlocks always accepted
skilled Magi willingly, and Shallam is certainly no place for someone of your
talent.'

At that point something broke, and my resistance crumbled. I turned and fled,
ignoring such meaningless trivialities as direction, or temperature.

Perhaps it was simply unkind fate that delivered me to the Gates of Ashtan.
Perhaps one of the Gods had ordained that there would be only two warriors on
watch that night - the legendary Tanris, the Ascendant of Zarathustra and a
Warlock who's name I had never heard. Perhaps it was all a scheme on Vaenian's
part, and he somehow tricked me into running towards Ashtan and falling into the
arms of a kind-looking Tsol'aa Magi. Perhaps it was all coincidence. Regardless,
when I awoke the next morning to a hot breakfast - something surprisingly rare
in war-torn Shallam - I took it. When a scarred Rajamala asked my to join the
Warlocks, I didn't hesitate. Fate, the Gods, my own indecisiveness or all three
combined had lead me here.

I spent the next three weeks in a haze. Vaenian arrived at the city gates one
day, and I was there to meet him. A Shallamite raiding party, striking
desperately against Ashtan, followed just days later. I was there to fight them
off. I did feel more than a twinge of guilt at that, raining fire and lightning
down on former colleagues - but not much more. Under Tauris' guidance, my skills
had increased tenfold. Maybe I was taking the conspiracies too far, but I
couldn't help think that Shallam would never have given me the opportunity to
grow so far so fast.

Eventually, I gained my citizenship to Ashtan and full membership of the
Warlocks. There was only one tie to Shallam left...

'You know, Ashtan could really use a monk with your skills, Nimor...'