Theurgy: The Citadel of Light (Book Three)

Chapter 5 Light of the Flame

Massia felt uneasy. She does not know what spurred this sensation or why she felt it so strongly, but she suffered a chilling, almost dreadful experience throughout her body upon seeing it. Gideon had been sparing when describing the location for which she shall spend the remainder of her time within Torlak, and that alone did not bode well, not to her. And yet, as the forests began to thin, they came upon the hilly fields beyond the city. The bright clear skies of the Torlakian Summer betrayed the essence of this place. Even the soldier who flew them both here upon his griffon looked uneasy, his senses warning him of what she was feeling now, and he seemed rather glad to be off. On the other hand, Gideon seemed not the least bit swayed by whatever force this was, and as soon as the griffon was out of sight, he let out a low sigh of smoke as his pipe reached the ends of its contents.

"Dreadful," he said. "You'll get used to it, kid. It's a shame all your luggage got caught in that explosion, but it was either that or the driver. I kinda liked the guy."

"Yes, quiet," she shivered despite the humid mid-day. "Where exactly are we going now? I swear if we have to make some long trek up the mountain."

"Relax, kid," Gideon took out his pipe, tapping out the ash, and used tobacco on the ground before putting the empty container in his mouth. "We are an elite class of the most secretive branch of the Empire. Do you believe we won't take every precaution to protect ourselves?"

I sense something ominous, Vermillia said timidly, a tone Massia was not very accustomed to hearing. The den of these sentinels, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, girl.

Gideon took a breath, and along the side of his pipe, minor runes began to light up in a green light. Smoke began to spout from the other end, despite there being nothing to light. The smoke was thick and completely opaque. However, it had a pleasant flagrant smell that didn't bother her. The smoke surrounded both of them, a vortex of whites and greys that spiraled around them. Massia could feel her bones tingle, her hair standing on end as the magic took hold of them. For the briefest second, she felt weightless, like the ground had suddenly receded from under her, leaving her a sparing second of freefall before the solid foundation returned again. Gideon stopped his blowing, allowing the smoke in the air to dissipate freely. Massia blinked, looking around in wonder at what she saw. They no longer stood in a green field; here the sun's radiant light did not reach. Instead, large candles and chandeliers hanging far above brought light down upon them. They were in some sort of library, the largest she had ever seen in her life; even the one in the Grimwald castle paled in comparison. Each tiered shelf was nearly a dozen meters in height before reaching the balconies that house even more. Around her, many round tables arranged in a circle had many tomes scattered about, some with occupants seemingly putting them. Others held weaponry, black steel swords, spears, axes, hammers, and such other tools of war, each heavily enchanted or prepared to do so. And the wielders of those weapons, they were everywhere. In Grimwald, one can expect to see twenty, maybe thirty sentinels over a week or so if you can distinguish them. But over just a minute to observe, she could see dozens, probably hundreds, in commute. Not all wore armor; some seemed not warriors but mages. But they all had that ashen, dark-eyed look. Inhumane resilience personified. Very few gave her even a glance, weaving around her and the Black Hand as if their sudden appearance was rather expected.

"Welcome to the Black Garden," Gideon told her. "Here, every sentinel is trained and deployed all over the Empire. It's the information center for all my agents as well. Every scrap of detail on anything, enemies, allies, weapons, even the scant recounts of those gods are held within this place. This is a place where men are remade into pure weapons for the Empire. It is where you shall learn what it means to be the Black Hand."

"There's so much," she whispered. "Has anyone ever read all of these."

There was a sudden laughter, rather chipper, despite the dark atmosphere that permeated through this place. A woman approached the pair, flanked by a small group of other girls dressed in dark grey dresses."I doubt any could have my dear besides the Matron herself. Forgive my manners; allow me to introduce you to the Garden formally. Indeed as our friend here has mentioned, this is where much of the sentinel's training shall take place. My name is Allura Bovaric, the head matriarch of the Garden and overseer of all sentinel training."