Lucian and Elyssa left the Fourth Church of Marika behind. Melina had searched the place from end to end, yet found no divine words left by the Queen. With nothing else to be gained, Lucian rested at the site of grace, restoring his strength, before departing.
The church sat atop a small hill, its vantage broad. From here, Lucian could see their next destination without even raising his telescope. At the base of the hill, in the opposite direction from whence they came, lay a ruined complex upon a green swamp. Many Marionette Soldiers stood guard there.
That was the place where the Academy had sealed the "Graven Witch" — Sellen. The swamp beneath it seethed with bubbles, each bursting with clouds of yellow-green gas. A poisoned swamp — to stand within was to slowly succumb to its miasma.
Elyssa came to stand at Lucian's side, gazing down upon it. Seeing him fix his eyes upon the place, she asked, "You intend to go there?"
"Yes," Lucian replied. "Beneath those ruins lies one I wish to free."
"Now?" she asked.
Lucian glanced at her, unsure of her meaning. "Yes, but the swamp will be troublesome."
Elyssa shook her head. "No trouble. Leave it to me."
Without another word, she descended toward the ruins at a run. Lucian did not hurry after her; her prowess was beyond concern, and he had just restored her with both crimson and cerulean tears — she was at her peak.
By the time she reached the swamp's edge, the waiting puppet soldiers had taken notice. Bow-wielding puppets raised their four arms in turn, loosing volleys of arrows, while sword-bearers closed in. The commotion stirred the hovering sorcerer spheres — they emerged from their summoning arrays and began to rise.
But Elyssa leapt high, evading every shaft, and came down in the very heart of the ruins. Driving her Zamor Curved Sword into the swamp, she unleashed a torrent of frost. In an instant, the poisoned waters froze solid, the miasma silenced.
The puppets' feet froze fast in the ice, their bodies lurching as they toppled. Still the frost spread, swelling into a blizzard that buried the frozen mire beneath a pristine shroud of snow. The swamp was gone; in its place lay a white plain.
The guards, entombed in rime, stood like grotesque snowmen. Even the sorcerer spheres froze mid-air, locked in deathless silence.
Such was the power of a graced hero — ordinary troops were nothing before them.
Lucian stepped onto the ice. Indeed, for Elyssa this swamp was no obstacle. Had it been him alone, the storm winds he commanded would have scattered the poison gas far and wide, and the fight would have been far messier.
"Thank you," he said.
"It's nothing." She gestured toward the center of the ruins, where a stairwell yawned into the lands. "The passage leads below. I took care not to freeze it."
Lucian nodded and descended.
—
Far away, within the Raya Lucaria Academy, a circle of sorcerers convened. Each wore a different Glintstone Crown, denoting the school to which they had once sworn allegiance — Olivinus, Twin Sage, Lazuli, Karolos. Once, these schools had been rivals in pursuit of differing mysteries, their enmities long and bitter.
But times had changed.
When Queen Rennala had been abandoned by Radagon, her mind shattering, they saw at once: the Carian Queen of the Full Moon was no more. The academy had ceased to be a sanctuary for the pursuit of glintstone's truth. Oaths sworn in youth had rotted away in the long march of years.
They had turned from the fate of the stars, seeking only their own gain. They allied themselves with the ignoble Cuckoo Knights, imprisoned Rennala in the Grand Library, and made war upon the Carian Royal Family. Those who opposed them — and those without the gift for sorcery — were cast out. The gates of the academy were sealed, never to open again, not even for the Shattering War.
They had betrayed all they once were. Now, no matter their old school, they had become something else entirely. Betrayers.
Today they met because word had come from the far Weeping Peninsula; the seal over the Graven Witch had been broken. The arcane surveillance relayed its final vision — a tall, lithe figure leaping into the heart of the site, conjuring a storm of snow that obliterated every defense. At the last, another appeared — garbed as a Banished Knight — before the image dissolved in frost.
The Olivinus sorcerer spoke first. "The Graven Witch — murderer of countless sorcerers — is about to walk free again. Any thoughts?"
No one spoke. For them, the Witch's deeds were nightmare — the Originists she once opposed had bound sorcerers together into "star-seeds" of their own mad design.
"The academy gates are sealed. She cannot enter," said the Twin Sage. "And they may not even intend to free her…"
"She cannot be killed," the Lazuli sorcerer snapped. "So if not to slay her, they must be there to set her loose! The academy's keys lie scattered in the wilds — if they find one, we are in danger!"
The Carolos sorcerer suggested, "Then we station guards at the entrances. Post sentries each day, deploy all puppet soldiers. Send word to the Cuckoos Knights outside — have them patrol for the pair who struck the seal. And if this weakens the Cuckoos… all the better."
The Olivinus sorcerer inclined his head. "All in favor?"
The votes came one by one.
"Passed."
"Passed."
"Passed."
—
The heavy iron door groaned open. Lucian stepped into the chamber and beheld Sellen's body.
The place reeked of death; corpses lay slumped against the walls, some rotting, others desiccated. Sellen herself knelt upon the floor, wrists transfixed to the wall by cruel glintstone spikes.
A great witch's crown engulfed her head, its size absurd upon her slight frame. She still wore the robes of a Raya Lucaria sorcerer. The spikes in her wrists did more than bind — they seared her with constant agony, a punishment devised by her peers.
When Lucian entered, he heard her hoarse, broken screams — the remnants of long hours of pain.
"Ahh! Ahhh—!"
"Haah… haah… damn you… ahhh—! A pack of… depraved lunatics…"