Untitled

Prologue


The stench of the catacombs was more than Deliad could bear. It’s
putrid, musty odor wore him down night after night. He had requested a
transfer numerous times, yet still the Elders had constantly denied his
appeals. They cited that the job was of the utmost importance and they
had entrusted Deliad with the responsibility. He didn’t even have any idea
who lied beyond the giant stone gate behind him. A part of him didn’t
want to know. Quite frankly, this whole place drove his soul crazy with
fear.

The tomb of the “Unknown Mage” was buried far beneath the
capital city. Every night he had to walk down what seemed like a
thousand, spiraling steps, around and around to a fate worse than death.
He would make his way through numerous check points of fellow
Neutralizers above him, each luckier than the last for being closer to the
surface. All in all there were seven checkpoints, Deliad being the final
one.

Thick, perspiring stones and centuries old masonry made up the
walls of the ancient chambers. Decaying moss accented it profusely to
show its true age. The strong stench was never explained to Deliad, but he
assumed from the fragments of human and Tainted bones scattered about,
that many had died trying to reach what was keep behind these cursed
doors.

A symbol comprising of seven ancient crests inside a circle was
carved on the stone door, half its circumference on either side of the


entrance to the tomb. Its seven symbols, each exuding an ominous blue
light, were the remnants of magic that had been cast by the original mages
two hundred years ago during the Great War. Deliad wasn’t ever able to
figure out if the enchantment was to keep intruders out or to keep
something in.

He looked over at the torch burning brightly to his left. It
illuminated the plethora of tattoos covering Deliad’s arms, ancient
symbols bestowed to each of his brother’s in arms for their chosen status.
His armor, made of mythril and magic, did little to quell his overactive
nerves. A sturdy sword crafted of the finest steel slung heavily to his side.
A grayish hood and cloak spun of thick, durable cloth rounded out the
ensemble, completing his standard issue Neutralizer uniform.

Well, he thought to himself as he leaned back against the wall,
here’s to another long night. As Deliad was mentally preparing himself
for the long shift ahead, he heard a slight noise out in the darkness of the
catacombs. Immediately his hand gripped his sword, the nervous sweat
making it hard to keep a clasp around the handle.

He took a few steps forward, squinting his eyes tightly, looking
into the pitch black beyond the dim safety of the torch. Desperately trying
to catch a glimpse at what made the noise, Deliad’s heart began to race.
For two hundred years the catacombs had been hidden to the city above
and to the Tainted. If one of those unholy creatures where to get in, he
worried to himself, there was a lot of steps separating him from his
brothers above.

Suddenly Deliad heard a rolling thud coming toward him from the
spiral steps above. He jumped around in time to see the sixth guard’s


body lifelessly tumbling around in a circle toward him. Good Gods, He
thought, we are under attack!

“Show yourself!” Deliad exclaimed, his blade instantly in front of
him. His tattoos began to illuminate veraciously, a sure sign of a nearby
Tainted. The torch began to flicker violently from the mysterious draft
picking up in the room.

“Foul beast, I am sworn to protect this door with my life! By the
Gods, I will not allow you to pass!” His voice was crackling from the fear
filling up his soul. Hunting these things was hard enough, but all alone in
the dark far away from any back-up was almost certain doom.

“Fear not young soldier.” A low, confident voice whispered to him
from the blackness. “It will all be over soon.”

Before Deliad knew what had happened the light of the torch
extinguished from the wind, leaving him completely blind. It was for the
best, as he didn’t feel the assassin’s blade make its way flawlessly across
the width of his neck.


Chapter 1

The sound of crashing steel filled the great hall like a raging
Severian thunderstorm rolling in from the western mountains of
Grandwall. Over and over again it repeated, as the two Neutralizers
circled each other, in lock step, staring cautiously into one anothers eyes.
The crowd of onlookers had grown since the noises had begun. Soon the
whole room was filling up with curious young students eager to witness
the action.

Major Laurent Deedstone was the head trainer of the academy. He
had put many a young men through years of rigorous and sometimes
torturous training to become a Neutralizer. After ages in the front lines, he
had semi-retired to the greener pastures of teaching. The Elders were
concerned of his age, but Laurent was not. If he couldn’t grease his blade
with demon blood then the next best thing was teaching the young ones
the true meaning of being part of the sacred Guild.

He stood over six feet tall, towering above most of the young ones.
His later years did little to soften the muscles protruding from his arms.
Numerous scars and old battle wounds stood out to all his students to
remind them that many Tainted had tried to take the Major down. None
had succeeded.

As he circled the other Neutralizer, Major Deedstone smiled and
said, “So you still think you’re ready Adian?” His gruff voice hinted with
the intimidation he was aiming for.


“Master Deedstone, I was ready months ago. Enough talk. Meet
my blade!” With that Adian lunged at the Major. Their swords met again,
this time Deedstones’ strength being too much for the young man to bear
as he pushed Adian to the ground.

The young warrior rolled away just in time to avoid the permanent
penalty of hesitation. Again and again the Major brought down his sword,
narrowly missing its intended target. Adian hopped back to his feet,
readying himself for the next clash. He might not be strong enough to take
down the Major, but he was faster than just about anyone in this cursed
Academy. The Gods had blessed him with uncanny speed and reflexes that
had gotten him to the top of his class.

“You have improved young warrior. But do you think a Tainted
will be as kind as me? To stop and talk whilst you catch your final glimpse
of your enemy? Have you listened to nothing I have taught you…?” The
Major was too busy preaching, and he didn’t expect the quick fist to his
nose. He stumbled backwards, trying furiously to shake out the cobwebs.

Adian quickly ran behind him and pulled the Major’s cloak over
his head, all the while striking with his free fist as fast as he could. When
he thought he had done enough, the young student kicked his teacher over.
Major Deedstone fumbled about, his arms flailing, attempting to escape
the unending coverage of his damned uniform.

“Do you surrender old one?” The tip of Adian’s long sword poked
through the cloth to the teacher’s neck. The crowd all seemed to gasp at
one time; creating a wave of tension in the hall you could cut with an
Elvin blade.


“Bah! Get off me, Adian Hathmore!”

“I ask one last time my wise and old teacher. Do you surrender?”
Adian couldn’t help but chuckle at the touch of grumpiness in the Major’s
voice.

“You pass,” Deedstone said with great reluctance, “Now get this
blasted cloak off me!”

“With pleasure my lord.” Adian reached down and began to
uncover his opponent.

The next moment caught Adian by surprise as the Major brought
up a dagger from his back satchel, silently moving it to up right between
Adian’s eyes.

“You pass, but you are still green. Never help up an opponent.
Finish them. Understand?” Deedstone instructed as he made his way back
to his feet.

“Yes my lord.” How could Adian be so stupid? He cursed himself
under his breath for the rookie mistake. There wouldn’t be a next time for
that sort of error.

The Major held up Adian’s hand in victory and circled them
together around the room. Dozens of onlooker’s clapped and cheered for
they had just witnessed the final trial for the young warrior. Soon he
would be patrolling the streets of Bevenclad, the capitol of the Kingdom
of Severia.


The celebration was short lived however, as two guards came
rushing into the hall shouting for Major Deedstone. They had looks of
pure horror and panic on their faces.

“What is it Captain Forths?” Deedstone asked with curiosity,
immediately letting go of Adian’s hand and turning to the messengers.
The captain whispered something in his ear, his eyes lighting up with
shock and disdain all at once.

“Class is over. Everyone, back to your studies!” He growled.
When no one moved he added, “Now!” The crowd quickly dispersed in
numerous directions leaving only the four of them in the center of the hall.
Adian turned to retire to his quarters, but the Major stopped him.

“You’ll hear this too young Hathmore. Since you have just earned
your marks then it is time you listen as well.” Major Deedstone gave his
attention back to the captain, who was shaking visibly.

“Someone or something has broken into the catacombs below the
city. I have been instructed to bring you to the Elders immediately Major
Deedstone.” Captain Forths wasn’t doing so well holding it together.
Nervous sweat ran down his face and his complexion was more pale than
usual. The captain was one of the toughest soldiers’Adian had ever met.
He had slain Tainted with his bare hands and lived to tell the tales. What
on Severia could have him so spooked?

“Well, let us waste no time. Adian, I want you to retire to the
visitor's quarters for now. I will send for you when I return. Do not leave
this academy for any reason. Do you understand?” Deedstone spoke with
absolute authority to his student.


Adian nodded his head, disappointed that he wasn’t going to


finally meet the Elders. Here was his chance to prove to the Guild he was
ready for the big assignments and he was being sent back to his room? The
mere idea of having to wait any second longer for action insulted him.
But now was not the time or place to rile up the Major. Adian figured it
best to listen for now, lest he might feel that hidden dagger between his
eyes once more.

As he made his way to the visitor's bunks, Adian looked down the
hall of the great Academy. Its huge stone walls, built with lavish marble
and rock, had basically been his home since he was just six years old. The
Guild had chosen him at a very young age when it had become apparent
he was faster and smarter than the other kids in school. He didn’t
remember much of his parents, but was told they were honored his was
picked to attend the Academy.

For the next sixteen years all Adian had done was train, study and
train some more. He had learned how to collar a Tainted at only nine
years old and the skills needed to ward off their spells at twelve. At
sixteen he had completed his first trial of the Mages, a hellacious trip to
the outskirts of the kingdom all alone tasked with retrieving the herbal
ingredients needed to bind the demon spawn blood to his arms. All
through this he had never once disobeyed an order. He had always striven
to be the best Neutralizer he could be.

The walls of this academy felt more like a prison each passing day.
They told him soon he would be serving out in the city or even patrolling
the wastelands to the north, but when? The Gods would strike him down
of old age before then.


He lay down on the visitor's bunk, his arms crossed in frustration,
no longer being able to contain the rage building inside his soul. Tonight,
he was going to prove once and for all that he was ready for duty. Tonight
Adian was going to catch one of those foul beasts himself and bring its
cursed head back on a platter for Major Deedstone and all the others to
see.

They stood there, the seven mages, their old, time worn faces
telling the story before Deedstone even had to hear what had happened.
He halted his brisk gallop as he crossed the plain into the throne room and
quickly took a knee, withdrawing the hood from his head.

Each mage was older than any living human. The seven of them
were all that remained from the Great War, all cursed to die slow, nearly
ageless deaths long after their loved ones had all perished from the
kingdom. The magic they had used to end the war had poisoned their very
souls from a heavenly reprieve. In the rush to victory those centuries ago,
they all had forgone the one thing that made them who they really were,
their humanity.

The head mage, Dalton, breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he
acknowledged Deedstone’s presence in the room. He used his tall,
ancient, metallic staff to help himself move forward toward the
experienced warrior. His long white beard matched that of his fellow
Elders, the only difference being the long black strip down the front of
Dalton’s. It was the touch of Coren that had left the charred scar for all to
see.


“Major Deedstone. I trust you have heard that an intruder has
broken into the catacombs below Bevenclad.” Dalton’s voice was filled
with anxiety, a sure sign the magnitude of the situation considering that
the Elders had fought against timeless demons and Tainted.

“Yes my Elder.” Laurent kept his head down, pointed at the
cobblestone ground, to show respect to his lords.

“The seven guards were found dead.”

“What?” The Major raised his head, succumbing to the feeling of
shock building in his torso.

“The tomb of Coren has been breached.”

It was the words Deedstone had feared since he had learned truth
of the Great War so many ages ago. All his young life as a student, and
even some years as a rising star in the Guild, Laurent had believed what
everyone in Severia was taught. The Great War was won by the Seven
Mages and Coren was destroyed. Only when he was promoted to Head
Major of the Neutralizers had he been told the truth.

“Do we have any idea who did it or where they went?”

“Captain Forths? I believe this is your part in all this.” Dalton
turned to the captain standing by Deedstone.

He stepped forward and cleared his throat to brief the room.

“We were able to catch a trace magic left behind by a Tainted one.
The trail seemed to run cold back into the catacombs. I can tell you this.


We followed it for a while until it dissipated and the only possible exit
from the tombs that the perpetrator used seems to be pointed north.”

“You mean to tell me Captain, that a Tainted one snuck past seven
of our best men, slaughtering them all and then proceeded to escape the
catacombs heading toward to the Forbidden Ruins?” Laurent’s heart sunk
deep within his chest. He could not have imagined anything worse than
this.

Adian had the best view of the city up there, perched high on top
of the newly constructed clock tower. It was well past curfew and the soft
glow of the dwindling fireplaces illuminated the horizon for as far as the
eye could see. The night sky was filling with storm clouds, a clash of
thunder catching his ear as he began to make his way down the side of the
building. They would come out during the storm, feeling a false sense of
security in the blanket of rain and wind, and Adian would be ready.

He had snuck out of the Academy with relative ease. Something
had the normal patrolmen distracted, leaving a shining opportunity for
Adian to get out into the city. He planned to be back before anyone knew
he was gone, with a well earned trophy in hand.

Hopping from ledge to ledge was an art form to him. Few at the
Academy could move like Adian. There wasn’t a structure in Severia he
didn’t dare climb or an alley or crevasse he couldn’t somehow find his
way in.

The city was eerily quiet tonight, even with the impending storm.
Adian decided to stick to the shadows and wait for his tattoos to pick up


on the presence of a target. Sooner or later one would come. They moved
around at mostly at night. Nearly all of the Tainted were housed in the
boroughs to the south of the city, away from the humans. They were
under constant guard and all had been tagged and collared appropriately to
dampen their demonic powers from harming anyone in Bevenclad.

But even with the protection of the Neutralizers, some Tainted
roamed free. Sometimes one would escape. Other times, they would just
vanish without a trace. That’s where Adian came in. His sole purpose was
to track them, find them and if need be, kill them.

He made his way from ledge to rooftop with relative ease, moving
silently as he had been trained, waiting for the opportune moment to
strike. Most windows were closed and shuttered after curfew so being
spotted wasn’t really a concern to Adian.

The soft illumination of the torch lights on the streets below gave
just enough for a panoramic view of the area of the cityscape. Come on,
he thought. Give me one and I shall make the Elders proud.

Just then, his forearms began to glow. It was faint for sure, but it
was a sign none the less. His heart began to race with excitement as he
made his way across the next ledge to the building across the way, all the
while the signal from the symbols getting stronger. Adian released his arm
covers to hide the sign of his presence and stopped to listen for any sound
that might give away the Tainted one’s position. He crouched down low
and tilted his head slightly, trying to listen over the rumbling of thunder.

“It burns!” He heard with his own ears. That sounded like a boy!
Adian thoughts began to catch up to his body, as he was already racing in


the direction of the screams. It sounded like it was coming from the alley
just beyond the next structure. With sword in hand, the young Neutralizer
jumped down, hell bent on getting his first kill for the Guild.