A flash of light, momentarily outshining the glow of hundreds of candles and enchanted orbs, drew gasps of awe from the guests at the celebration. The event organizers didn’t even have time to exchange worried glances before a chilling howl echoed from the direction of the workshops, making it clear to everyone—this was no part of the festivities.
In that moment, none of the attendees could have imagined that the climax of the Autumn Ball, held annually at the High School of Wizardry and Combat Magic in Sunhaven, would be the tragic deaths of several wizards.
***
“Incorporeality!” shouted one of the senior magisters.
A ghostly tentacle effortlessly pierced through a magical shield and, taking on a solid form, lashed out wildly in all directions. Dodging the strikes, the wizard dove to the ground with a grunt:
“These... tentacles... physical damage doesn’t faze them one bit...”
“Mare, get back!” barked another, unleashing a wave of magical fire—a tried-and-true method against incorporeal foes.
“Waste of effort,” wheezed the mage who had barely managed to leap aside. “It shifts too fast; I can’t land a hit. Kore, where’s Sarevinn? We won’t hold out much longer…”
The monster, terrifying in its invulnerability, moved with a deceptive mix of sluggishness and speed. So far, it seemed largely unaffected by combat spells—whether elemental or aimed at physical harm. Its grotesque, clumsy humanoid body, forged from metal, creaked and groaned as it lumbered out of the workshop into the inner courtyard. But its slow pace was offset by ghostly tentacles of varying lengths. Two senior magisters and eight lower-ranking instructors circled it like a pack of hounds surrounding a deadly prey.
“She said she’d be here soon,” Senior Magister Korvel exhaled slowly, taking advantage of a brief respite provided by a roaring wall of fire. “After she calms the guests.”
“So, not anytime soon,” his partner smirked sarcastically. His long, thin fingers danced rapidly as he began weaving a new spell. “I’ve got an idea. Cover me.”
Korvel nodded silently, signaling to the other magisters. Roles were assigned—while he ensured his partner’s safety, some wizards shielded him with barriers, and others distracted the beast until the task was complete. It was no easy feat.
Meanwhile, the magical flames died down. Sensing weakness, the monster charged at the wizards with a thunderous crash and grating screech, ignoring the barrage of magical fists, lightning bolts, and fireballs. Its awkward steel frame unleashed a dozen new ghostly tentacles toward the group. Illusory duplicates of the mages, conjured by Korvel in places where they weren’t actually standing, confused the golem, causing most of its strikes to miss. But…
One of the younger magisters let out a cry, choking on blood as he staggered. Another gasped hoarsely. A third didn’t even have time to make a sound—Korvel only caught a glimpse of him collapsing out of the corner of his eye.
Marliur, keeping his gaze locked on the steel monstrosity, took a step toward it and thrust both palms forward. Translucent silver webs shot from his fingertips, unfurling midair. They severed several tentacles that had solidified for another strike, and in the next instant, enveloped the monster in a tight cocoon.
“It’s immobilized! Hit it now!” Korvel shouted, launching fireball after fireball at the creature. “If this is really a golem, we need to breach the shell and get to its core.”
Constrained by the webs, the monster swayed and crashed to the ground. Its metal body twisted and contorted as if caught between two giant millstones. Marliur wasn’t strong in elemental magic, but when it came to combat spells designed for physical damage, he had no equal in the entire school—especially when given the chance to focus.
Korvel noticed too late the single ghostly tentacle that somehow broke through the webs, darting toward his friend and partner.
***
Closer to midnight, the school finally stopped resembling a stirred-up beehive. The true cause of the incident, along with the deaths of several wizards, had been kept from the guests for now. Everything was chalked up to a malfunction in the protective wards and a host of other excuses meant to distract the alarmed and frightened crowd. But there was no hiding the truth from the all-seeing eye of King-Mage Sayres, no matter how much one might wish to. So, Grand Magister Sarevinn, after entrusting the care of the guests to her assistants, decided to personally document the events. After filling two parchment scrolls with her account, she wasn’t the least bit surprised when a royal messenger—a djinn—materialized in her office.
“The king demands an explanation,” the powerful magical being’s booming voice carried no trace of emotion.
“Everything I know so far is here,” Sarevinn replied curtly. “If I learn more, I’ll provide an update.”
The two scrolls lifted from her desk and vanished into the djinn’s massive hand. Without another word, the creature disappeared, leaving behind a faint, sweet scent of spices.
Sarevinn sighed and rubbed her forehead, mulling over the mountain of trouble that would now fall on the school—and on her personally—due to the arrogance of a single adept. Her grim thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” she called, unlocking the door with a subtle flick of her brow.
Senior Magister Korvel entered the office. Pale and haggard, he had already changed out of his torn, bloodstained robe into a clean, neat one.
“Surtaz is still unconscious. They’re keeping an eye on him,” the wizard said wearily. Accepting Sarevinn’s gesture, he sat on the edge of the nearest chair by her desk.
“According to his notes,” the sorceress said, pulling a worn notebook with a plain gray cover from a drawer, “he shielded himself with a Deathwarden’s Barrier.”
“Geez... he actually went there,” Korvel shook his head. “Where’d you get the notes?”
“Adept Olrik helped locate them. When it became clear something extraordinary had happened, he got worried and tried to leave the hall,” Sarevinn explained, handing the notebook to the senior magister. “During questioning, he mentioned he’d stopped by Surtaz’s room an hour earlier to invite him to the ball, but Surtaz declined, saying he had important work to do.”
“From what I can tell, Surtaz isn’t exactly a fan of these kinds of events. And I doubt Olrik, as his friend—probably his only friend, if I remember right—didn’t know that,” Korvel mused, flipping through the pages.
“Something wrong?” Sarevinn asked, tucking a stray dark strand back into her high updo.
“It’s all here, detailed step by step—how he created this astonishingly lethal creature,” Korvel said slowly.
“I know. I’ve read it,” the sorceress nodded.
“I’m just thinking about how inventive and talented you’d have to call Surtaz to pull off something like this…”
“Crafting a steel golem’s shell and desecrating it with necromancy, binding some poor restless soul to it and twisting its very essence in the process,” Sarevinn cut in coldly. “He’s talented, no question. And inventive. But reckless, if he chose the worst possible path…”
“Oh yeah, he’s got recklessness in spades,” the mage agreed. “Considering he picked a spell for protection that’ll kill him from exhaustion if we don’t intervene.”
“Given what he’s done…”
“You think we should let him die?”
“I think he won’t be allowed to die so easily or painlessly,” the Grand Magister pressed her lips into a thin line, lost in thought. “There’ll be a trial. Most likely, the king himself will decide his fate.”
“A public execution?”
“Possibly. Forbidden magic causing so many casualties… The fact that necromancers have been holed up in their valley for a decade doesn’t mean they’re not among us. Surtaz somehow got his hands on forbidden knowledge. From where?”
“There are books on necromancy in the school library,” Korvel pointed out.
“Out of the question,” Sarevinn shook her head. “They’re locked away under my personal seal. A seventeen-year-old adept couldn’t break it without me noticing.”
“So, someone helped him…” the mage concluded.
“Probably. We need to talk to Surtaz. And if he won’t talk, we’ll have to dig into his memories.”
“Based on the dates in these notes, his interest in necromancy started about three years ago,” Korvel noted. “That’s a huge chunk of memories to sift through.”
“His fate depends on it. To think, such a promising graduate, the best in the last ten, maybe even fifteen years…” The Grand Magister grimaced. “I was preparing a recommendation to send him to King Sayres’s court. And now this—necromancy…”
“This could hurt your reputation.”
“Not if I can prove there was no malicious intent. If Surtaz shows remorse and realizes necromancy is a dead end, maybe we can get his punishment reduced.”
“Don’t want to waste talent?” Korvel gave a wry smile, handing back the notebook. “Maybe we should petition the king? Though… I’m not sure it’ll help. The families of the fallen won’t let this slide.”
“Sayres already has a report on what happened tonight. If, after speaking with Surtaz, I see he’s not beyond redemption, I’ll send the king a request for leniency. Under my responsibility.”
“If we can swap execution for exile, I could reach out to some elven contacts at Silver Spring,” Korvel said thoughtfully. “I helped them out a while back, and they might agree to shelter an exile in return. Far from… potential threats to his life.”
“Good idea,” the sorceress nodded. “Maybe the local high druid… hmm… Seletr, I think, won’t refuse if I add my support to the request.”
“By the way… mind if I ask something?”
“Go ahead,” Sarevinn looked at him intently.
“I’ve been watching Surtaz since his first year and can honestly call him my favorite student… I’ve already decided I’ll do whatever I can to help him. But why are you doing this?”
“If we can replace execution with temporary exile, I’m counting on him returning to fill Marliur’s place,” the Grand Magister said, sliding the notebook back into her desk drawer. Without looking up at Korvel, she smoothed the sleeves of her deep crimson headmistress robe.
“Understood. Thanks,” the mage stood and headed for the door. “Then I guess I’ll go bring Surtaz back to consciousness.”
_________
Don’t forget to add the book to your library ;)