STORMLESS

by

Nick Stitle 

Part I: The Blood Sorcerer 

Chapter 1: Arrival

Velarus Ravamoira stood in the stark yellow light of the Blazeday, staring into the dim chamber ahead. He strode into Summerglass Palace, passing through the massive white-marble doors as the guards heaved them open. Velarus’ voluminous black robes whispered across the smooth, white floor. He glided across the Royal Entry Hall, making for the second set of marble doors at the far end of the atrium.

Lavish furniture decorated the sides of the chamber, resting below grand marble statues of kings long passed. A magnificent, crystal chandelier hung in the center of the entry hall, its light staining the entire corridor. Hallways broke off to the left and right, leading to the rest of the palace. Pairs of golden braziers lined the walls, orange flames dancing wildly within. Torches hung at intervals between them, casting feral shadows on the walls beyond.

Four guards stood before the closed doors, each bearing a torch and a silver-gold spear.

Scorchers. The abundancy of open flames in the room would give them an undeniable advantage, should conflict arise.

King Avenos Titansworn was known to be a powerful Scorcher, Velarus knew that much.

But will it matter? he wondered. Velarus was not here to test the King’s strength; no, Velarus had come for another reason.

The guards took note of Velarus’ robes and began whispering to one another at his approach. The guards stiffened as he neared, raising the spears held firmly in their armored hands. Their vermillion uniforms were decorated with Arvendon’s insignia: A golden Blazecrest circling a flame.

Velarus’ robes bore a much different look, consisting of only the darkest of blacks with slender veins of a deep, blood-red cloth weaving amongst the folds and curves of the cloak.

“Not any closer!” one of the guards called from behind a steel faceplate. Velarus stopped.

“The King is not currently taking appointments,” the guard called.

“And yet here I am, seeking an audience with him nonetheless,” Velarus said, folding his hands into his robes.

The guard turned back to his companions, who shrugged slightly.

“We are under strict orders to only let in those with a missive signed by the King’s Council,” the guard said, straightening. “We cannot grant you entry, please be on your way.”

“Well then,” Velarus sighed. “That is quite a shame. I only arrived this afternoon, and I was hoping that I would be given an opportunity to share the information that I have been sent to pass along.”

The guards showed no reaction.

“The message I carry is intended for the King himself, might I add,” Velarus continued, pacing closer. “And if he does not receive it, I fear that there may be… consequences.” Velarus trailed off.

“You have been ordered to leave,” the guard said, stepping forward. “You would be wise to do so.”

“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” Velarus sighed, grimacing. “But as it happens, I will be seeing the King this afternoon, one way or another.” Velarus was now only a few paces away from the lead guard. “You see, there is another method that I can take to grant myself entry to this throne room.” Carefully, Velarus bled one of the Crystals within his robes. Power seeped into his veins, infusing his body with energy. “And unfortunately for you, that method involves a bit more force.” He raised his hand, initiating the spell.

An immaterial weight manifested in Velarus’ palm. Velarus twisted his fingers, readying himself.

“You—” the guard started.

Velarus didn’t let him finish. He squeezed his fist, calling upon his abilities to cut the blood flow to boy’s brain.

“I… wha—” the guard stuttered, stumbling backward. The other guards shifted into a defensive stance.

“Move, and your friend dies,” Velarus said, raising his black eyes to meet those of the other three guards.

They hesitated, giving Velarus all the time that he needed to take control of them as well.

Velarus closed his other fist, bleeding several more Crystals. He forced the men to the ground with a wave of his hand.

They crumpled to the floor almost instantly, incapacitated.

“Pitiful,” Velarus spat, releasing the guards a few seconds later. Velarus stopped bleeding the Crystals hidden within the inner pockets of his cloak and made for the entrance before him.

With a heave, he pushed open the colossal marble doors to the throne room.

Dozens of marble pillars lined the chamber, a golden brazier sitting before each one. No chandelier hung in this room. In its place was a massive hanging pendant made of pure gold, bearing an overpowering hearth that cast the tall ceiling in a fury of dancing shadows.

Before Velarus lay a long stretch of marble flooring, leading to the throne at the end of the room. Guards lined the walls, each wearing the same suit of vermillion armor.

“Who dares venture into my throne room unannounced?” Avenos bellowed, rising from his royal seat. There was something to his voice… a sort of regal weight. The guards raised their spears. Orange Crystals hung from their waists. Scorchers.

Advisors, cloaked in the shadows of the Throne, watched Velarus. Whisperers. They were attempting to manipulate his emotions.

With a slight bleed of a Crystal, Velarus shrugged off their effect. Velarus’ abilities allowed him to stabilize his mind, preventing it from being affected by outside influence.

“Velarus Ravamoira, and might I say, it is wonderful to finally meet you.” Velarus smiled, bowing. “Surely your men have informed you of my presence already, your majesty,” Velarus began, striding forward. “A man wearing the robes of a Blood Sorcerer entering the city… That is most certainly a piece of information that would have reached even your ears.”

The King’s eyes wavered ever so slightly.

“I understand your apprehension in believing that one with my powers could truly be standing before you today,” Velarus continued. “Which is precisely why I am here now: To confirm that I am that which I claim to be.”

“Guards-!” the King started.

“I have come bearing a warning and a threat,” Velarus interrupted. He was now perhaps twenty feet from the King. The guards were no more than a few dozen yards away in any direction. Velarus would need to position himself very carefully in order for his plan to work.

“Guards, seize him! Get this man out of my throne room!” the King commanded. Just as the guards moved to apprehend him, Velarus flung open the sides of his robe, revealing rows upon rows of blood-red Crystals.

The guards froze.

“I am a Blood Sorcerer, and I am one of many.” Velarus said. No one dared move as he pulled back his hood, revealing his shaved head. “My Sect has returned, and my Master has sent me to your disgusting city with a message: You will surrender control of your army, and your country, to our organization… or it will be taken from you.”

The King stood for a moment, as if pondering his words. Then, the King laughed.

“You come into my kingdom, into my castle, and now you command me to hand over my city?” the King chuckled. “You must be mad!” the King slapped his knee, still bellowing with laughter. He raised his eyes back to Velarus. “But if that is the game you wish to play…” Flames drifted from the King’s crystals, swirling around his hands as he wove them together. “Well, we have a special place in the dungeons for your kind.” The fires licked the King’s fingertips. “I will not give up my armies. And I certainly will not surrender my country to you.” The King guided his hands through careful, well-practiced motions, and Velarus soon found himself surrounded by brilliant tendrils of flame. “Besides, even if you were a Blood Sorcerer-as you claim to be-my answer would be the same.” Swaths of golden flames surrounded the King, giving him an almost divine aura. “I have always thought the powers of your kind were a bit… exaggerated.”

Velarus smiled, subtly bleeding his Crystals. This would be a display that the King would not soon forget.

“Exaggerated?” Velarus snorted. “Well, we’ll see about that.” The King lunged.

Velarus closed his eyes, diving into the depths of his soul. His power awaited him, begging to be unleashed. Velarus grabbed hold of it, and then the blood came.

The King’s flames vanished as the room exploded with black-red energy.

Torrents of blood flooded the chamber, scattering the contents of the throne room. Darkness surged within the air, warping the blood and causing it to levitate. The terrible power thrived, rivers of blood and darkness ravaging the chamber.

Velarus knocked the guards to the ground with nothing more than a thought. The hell- storm raged, knocking down braziers, tearing apart the soft carpet, and wreaking havoc on even the pillars themselves. Dark energy smashed into the walls, causing the whole palace to quiver.

The cyclone of blood magic quickened, growing stronger with each passing second. Velarus smiled. With a wave of his hand, the frenzy of horror receded slightly before him, leaving in its place a single person…

The King writhed on the marble floor before Velarus, his vermillion robes flapping in the raging storm of blood magic. Velarus approached him, forcing the King to his knees with a twist of his finger.

“You are nothing,” Velarus whispered, his face mere inches from the King’s. “You will always be nothing. You cannot even imagine the power my people hold.”

“Please.” The King wept, trembling beneath the spikes of pain Velarus pulsed through his body. “Why are you doing this?”

Velarus paused. “Auris is in danger, and it seems I am the only one who can save it. You and your people have made it clear that you only respond to force,” he breathed. “We are your last hope. Even your most powerful Summoners don’t stand a chance in the face of The Resurgence.” Velarus released him. The cascades of blood and darkness vanished in an instant, fading into nothing.

The King fell to the floor. He was mostly unharmed—as were the guards—but Velarus had no doubts that this would be a day they would never forget.

“You have six weeks,” Velarus said. “Surrender the city by then… or suffer the consequences.”The King offered no response.

Velarus turned, gliding towards the doors through which he had entered. As Velarus passed through the entrance, the only sound in the enormous chamber was the gentle crackling of the flames, a reminder to the King that even surrounded by the very element which he controlled, he was powerless.