spellbound | book #1 | completed

X L I V

[edited: 21/03/2018]

The Principle Warlock shuffled into the main hall with a member of the Council on either side of him, one of them being Tykon's mother. His grey robes slithered along the tiles, his feet hidden beneath them, just as they always were, so that it looked as though he was hovering rather than walking.

There was something about him that Tykon had never liked; he had felt uneasy in his presence since being a young boy, and wondered perhaps if it was his grey hair and wrinkled face. It took warlocks millenniums to reach old age—if they did at all, for ageing was but a rare defect now—meaning that he must have been alive for well over a thousand years.

The warlocks and witches around him were in chaos, so much so that only a few people had noticed the Principle Warlock enter. Members of the Great Warlock Army distributed fighting gear and weapons that had no doubt been enchanted with spells meant to defend and destroy. Mothers and fathers were kissing their children goodbye and leaving them with those who could not fight—those who were too young, too inexperienced, or those who simply did not want to. Some were preparing portals, having already put on their red fighting gear, whilst others were in deep conversation with Council members. Some looked terrified, and some looked determined.

Tykon looked neither of these things; he was not sure what to do. He had never been in such a situation as this, had never seen so much stress and potentiality for danger before. He had never fought before, not really. His job had never required it; all it did require was to perform basic errands in the Central Hall and perhaps attend the occasional event with his mother. He had never prepared for something like this.

The Principle's voice brought everyone to a halt. He stood mightily in front of his audience, a look of terror that he was trying—and failing—to conceal on his face. His skin was a sickly green. Perhaps he had never seen anything like this before, either.

"Warlocks and witches, if I could have your attention for a moment!" The room fell so silent that Tykon's ears rang with the only reminder that just a few seconds ago there were hundreds of people shouting and crying over one another. "I am sure that by now you are all well aware that we have found the Dark Ones. They are at Nil Lake and they have the mortal girl—meaning, of course, that they have a key that can access an infinite amount of dark magic. We must get it back before they use it."

He paused for a moment and took the time to search his audience with cold eyes. "Many of us have seen the strength of dark magic, and know that it is not so easy to fight. That is why I ask the people of Astracia to help us; fight back, and protect your loved ones. In just a short amount of time, portals will begin to open. I ask that you put on your fighting gear and enter them with the Great Army. We can no longer allow this sort of behaviour to happen. The Dark Ones destroyed many of our buildings with their spells and toxic rain, and they have harmed many of us, too. It is time to put an end to it."

Many people nodded in agreement and chatter echoed throughout the hall. The Principle spoke over it as though he could not hear it at all.

"I wish you luck. May you honour our city, our realm, and do what is right. May you make those who cannot fight today proud. May you return to us safely when you have succeeded."

He nodded, signalling that his speech was over, and mumbled something to Tykon's mother. A moment later, the pair came over. The crowd parted for their Principle, and Tykon could feel his hands beginning to sweat as the Principle eyed him up, a solemn expression on his face.

"Is there anything that I can do, sir, besides prepare myself for the battle?" Tykon questioned politely, glancing at his mother for reassurance. He had never seen her look so worried, and her usually bright blue eyes looked much darker and rounder than he was used to.