Epilogue
Sealing the Darkness
AZ 1456 - Early Summer
Outside Girondin, Notos
Even though it was over a thousand miles away, Scipio could feel it as if were within eyeshot. The tumultuous wave that rippled through the æther currents could mean only one thing. The Monarch Lich had been destroyed, but vanquishing him could only have come at a terrible cost.
It was all Scipio could do to keep Rowland from interfering as the Zephyrians made their way to the Darklands, but now he was presented with a unique opportunity. The wave that spread from the Darklands would soon return. Scipio could make use of this wave to do a service not only for Notos but for all lands.
If his calculations were correct, the wave would reflect back to its origin in forty-four days' time. That left him with little more than a month to assemble every mage he could find and make all the necessary preparations. Including Scipio, they numbered one hundred and eight, an auspicious number. They would need every advantage they could get.
The location he chose outside Girondin was not a confluence of the currents, but it was the fastest point in the current flowing directly into the heart of the Darklands. For six days and seven nights the assembled mages performed all the necessary rituals and it was now, at the dawn of the seventh day, that the appointed hour was fast approaching.
Before they began, Scipio took it upon himself to address his peers.
"My friends, it will not be long now. I have asked much of you and you have performed admirably, but our true work is just beginning. Soon the wave will be upon us. The great energies released from the Darklands will pass through us, but not before we give them new purpose. We will use those energies to seal the Darklands, to protect our lands and all lands from their menace.
"If we succeed, I cannot say how long the seal will hold, but generations will be born, live and die without ever once thinking to fear the evil in the East. It is our service to all peoples and I thank you for lending me your power this day.
"Remember your incantations. Do not let your concentration falter. Countless lives are depending on us. Good luck, my friends. Let us begin."
Those who had God, gods, spirits or saints to invoke did so and when that was finished, Scipio lifted up his voice an intoned the first syllable of the incantation. The beginning was simple, just a few lines repeated over and over to prime the earth and air for the time when the wave came upon them. It continued for an hour, possibly two, when the first foreshocks came.
He then led the assembly in the second verse of the incantation. All but the most insensate could feel the air around them charged with energy. Everything was ready. And then came the wave.
Even for a mage of Scipio's experience, it was difficult to preserve his concentration. With the area around them primed for the spell, the power of the wave was magnified. If you were not careful, the very soul could be stripped from your flesh and swept away. Concentration was the only anchor.
He began the third verse and the other voices joined in. The spell they were casting was well above the level of even the strongest among them. Only together could they gather the necessary power, control and channel it toward its destination.
The wave lashed at him, but he held fast, repeating the third verse until the power around them reached its peak, flowing out of them in a rush.
In the wake of the wave, an eerie stillness remained. Aftershocks would follow, but for the moment, it was as if they had entered the Void itself.
It took Scipio a moment to compose himself. His vision had left him briefly, but within a few moments time, the light returned to his eyes. More than thirty of their number lie crumpled on the ground, either fainted or dead.
Young Epaphras, who was among those who remained standing, approached Scipio on unsteady legs, leaning on his staff as if he were an old man.
"Was it accomplished, Master?" he asked.
"I cannot say," Scipio replied. "We must launch an expedition to test the seal, but for now, we must rest from our labors and recover."
"I hope that we succeeded."
"That is my hope as well, my young friend. I do not wish to believe that our efforts had been for naught."
Indeed, Scipio could not yet say whether or not they had succeeded, but he believed it was so. Belief is not always rewarded with truth, but he held the faith all the same.