Hot Obsidian
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“Let’s go, Pai,” whispered Milian. “It’s evening already. We must get to the inn before the curfew or we’ll have to spend the night with Crimson Guardians.”
“Yes… yes, of course.” Pai nodded obediently and closed his book. He still looked like he wasn’t all there, though. “I’ve read so much! I just have to share my thoughts with someone or I’ll explode.”
“Sure, sure, no problem,” muttered Milian as he helped his friend return the books. “You can tell me everything on the way.”
Pai was so excited with the possibility of finally learning some real magic that he lost all caution; he was barely in touch with reality. If he had been alone, he wouldn't even have found his way to the inn. Milian had to drag him through the evening crowd by the hand and keep the conversation going at the same time because Pai would not shut up about what he had read that day.
So passionate was the self-taught mage’s speech that it made Milian doubt his choice of the ambasiath path in the end. Milian Corvus did what he had never thought he would ever do: he dared to consider becoming a mage himself! But the fragile idea had been broken almost instantly: some thug, annoyed with the tardiness of the crowd, smacked Milian on the head as he was elbowing his way through. It hurt, both physically and emotionally, but it helped Milian sober up and get back to reality. He and Pai had things to do, they couldn’t both have their heads in the clouds.
Thanks to Milian, they reached the inn just in time.
It got very quiet in the room when they closed the door behind them. Everyone dropped what they were doing, only Orion kept cleaning the sword Oasis had left him for safekeeping, but there was a silent question in his eyes as well.
“Well, what did you learn?” asked Juel.
He was looking at Pai as he said that because it was Pai’s mission. But Pai Prior was in no position to speak coherently, so Milian had to do the talking.
“We talked with one of the magisters,” he explained. “He told us that the mages powerful enough to cast Transvolo are out of the city now, they may not return for months.”
Pai was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, busy with following a pattern of dancing tigers on it with his eyes, his thoughts still somewhere far away. His voice sounded very far away too when he said, “That’s enough time for me to learn Transvolo myself.”
Nobody dared to laugh.
“How much time do you need exactly?” inquired Juel.
“A month. Maybe two,” mused Pai, his idle fingers brushing through the carpet’s fur.
“Too long,” the Faizul shook his head.
Orion gave Oasis’s sword, now as shiny as a new mirror, a last look, sheathed it, and cleared his throat.
“As far as I remember,” he said in a matter-of-factly way, “Sainar gave us no deadlines.”
“Yes! And Transvolo may prove useful!” Bala joined him.
“Agreed,” nodded Lainuver. “We could use some more time as well. While Pai is busy with Transvolo, we can learn a thing or two about the No Man’s Land and its dangers. I’d hate to go there unprepared, if you get what I mean.”
“We can’t afford that,” Juel stopped the arguments. “We don’t have enough money for rent and food…”
Someone knocked at the door. Hard. Probably with a boot.
“And here goes the hero that will solve our rent money problem,” guessed Orion. That said, he stood up and headed toward the door.
The late visitor turned out to be Oasis. The team’s urban jungle specialist was tired, bruised, sweaty, and angry (for being left behind the door for too long) but glad at what he had found.
“Hi, pal!” Orion greeted him cheerfully. “I've cleaned your sword. Take good care of it from now on.”
“Who’s beaten you up?” asked Jarmin, his eyes wide with worry.
“Ah, that…” Oasis waved his hand and made a bored face. “Local street urchins. A whole gaggle of them, strength in numbers and all… Well, I think I’ve taught them a lesson. Knocked down five of them; the rest ran away. Scum.”
Another ambasiath elephant made a jingly run through a pottery store. Just great…
“I hope you haven’t killed anyone?” frowned Juel.
“Of course not.” Oasis sprawled himself on the soft carpet, pure joy on his dirty face. “To tell the truth, I almost grabbed my knife when they started throwing stones but I managed without it. Ah, it’s been years since I’ve had a proper street fight. I used to be good even before my apprenticeship; now, it’s all child’s play.” Oasis rolled to the side, his face suddenly serious again. “Almost forgot: I found us a cheap place to live. No carpets there but it’s still cosy.”
Juel and Orion exchanged glances. Pai watched them both with burning hope in his eyes.
“Fine,” yielded the Faizul. “We’ll stay here to learn about the No Man’s Land and Transvolo.”
“Huzza!” Orion winked at Pai, “Do your thing, mage!”
Chapter 5. Child of the night
“Our food tastes like ashes to them, it allows them to survive but they can not thrive on it. Often, they hibernate for centuries to conserve energy but they can not remain in that state forever. Once in a while, they have to hunt. The only food that can satisfy the hunger of a child of the night is human flesh…”
Helga-Vlada and Sereg, “Tome of Dark Creatures”
The Order of Hot Obsidian is an elusive thing. You will never find it unless you know exactly what to look for. And even then, all you can see is just the tip of the iceberg.
There is a famous ambasiath, known to Omnisians as Hansai Donal, a rebel, a romantic, and a powerful speaker. There are his ten children and their apprentices. Twenty one members in total. There used to be twenty-two when Gerdon Lorian, Sainar’s step-brother, was alive, but that was a very long time ago…