Entanglement of the Dark

Prologue

Once there was a land in which those without magic and those with lived cohesively among each other, providing each with what they needed most. The magical beings, Conjurers, saved the people of the land from sickness and famine with their magic. Those without The Power provided love and gifts as payment that kept the magic alive for, without the people, the magical power would dwindle and surely die. 

For generations, a family would be able to take a dying child to the location of a Conjurer and offer animals or food. The gift payment was based upon the wealth of the family and if sufficient, the child would be blessed and would survive. This balance allowed for the people to have hope and the Conjurers to live life as adored and rich. The trade was enough for almost everyone. Almost. The balance between those with magic and those without was delicate, though many did not realize how fragile the system truly was until one fateful morning. 

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The sun had not yet risen when King Bain rode into the woods. His son was dying. His only heir. The Queen had long been gone and the King was old and tired. His fifteen-year-old son, Prince Eddar, was the only hope he had for his bloodline to remain in power of their land. Bain's son was not well enough to be able to transport to the Conjurer without possible death along the trip and the King did not want anyone, select the few taking care of his son within the palace, to know just how close the kingdom was to devastation.  It had been more than four hundred years since a bloodline change and the process of the next ruler tended to bring more death as those wanting to rule fought for the crown. There was more at stake than just his only son, it was the entire kingdoms fate if the boy died. 

He rode alone as fast as his horse could carry him between the trees to the Conjurer whose power exceeded that of any other that was known around the kingdom of Daya. His name was Conjurer Seciliem whose powers grew due to the fondness of the kingdoms people and the extravagant gifts people gave in return. The Conjurer was at the status of being worshiped just as the king himself was. 

King Bain rode until his horse heaved under his body weight and continued until he reached the front doorstep of Seciliem. There was the smell of heavy incense in the air with wisps of smoke floating around between the heavy dark trees. The smoke played in the light breeze almost in a sinister way, curling around in the wind before vanishing.

The King's boots tapping on the black stone steps were loud amongst the surrounding nature. Before he had the chance to knock on the heavy wooden door it opened, but no one answered. Almost as if there were another voice in his head the King heard a whisper, "Come. Come inside, King Bain." 

The King stepped into the large entry and as he did candles along the walls began to light his way from a grand entrance to a long hallway between two rolling staircases. He had never heard of a Conjurer controlling an element like fire. This was a powerful being who looked like a man, King Baine was almost certain he could not be flesh and blood. The walls of flames lead him between two staircases made of glossy black stairs with gold railings, King Bain could not help notice how lavish it all seemed. Wealthy. This was unlike the Conjurers he knew who often cured minor illnesses and saved crops. King Bain had thought it was just a fairytale of hope to hear of a Conjurer who had the power to reverse death's touch even as the reaper waited for the soul to leave the body in the final moments. But this Conjurer could control an element, fire, and had enough power the King felt as though it was sitting heavily in the air he breathed, settling deep into his chest and stealing his breath. 

The golden double doors that the candles led him to open once again without the use of a person's hands. This was his magic and it was unlike anything the King had ever heard of and he could not believe he was seeing it with his own eyes. This Conjurer could save his son.

There, in the center of the room, sat a man in black. His eyes looked a strange color, almost gold, and a terrible burn mark covered half his face, over one eye, and down his cheek before trailing beneath the collar of his coat. 

"Seciliem," the King whispered on what felt like his last breath. 

"My King," the man smiled, continuing to sit in his extravagant throne without bothering to address King Baine properly. "Please, call me Secil."

The King nodded hastily as if he was in the presence of one so great he was beginning to forget his status. "I am here-"

"To save your son," he stood then to a great height, much taller than the King was expecting, and folded his hands together. "I know. And I will so- for a price."

The two men stared at each other, each with power different from the other, as they tried to read each other. One staring into the brown of the earth while the other stared deeply into the gold of the sun. "Of course, there is always a price. What would you prefer: gold, sheep, or-"

"Nothing of that nature," Secil took a step forward towards Baine and away from his throne. "I would like a favor."

"What type of favor and when?"

"See, I am not sure as of yet." He smiled again. "Let us say that when the time comes, I will ask and you will provide."

"Only one favor."

"And nothing more."

"Secil," the King shook his head, "Eddar might not even be breathing right now. This is all I could do-"

"My King," Secil address Baine as he should have from the start. "I know your son is still breathing however, he will not be for long. The decision is yours but you must make it now. If we hesitate another minute we will never make it in time." 

Baine did not know what the favor could be, or how this Conjurer could create anything or restore health without the payment immediately. Their power came from gifts and love, not unpaid favors. But Secil also controlled elements, an impossible task. Conjurers were magic, yes, but they were not the Gods. 

Baine nodded before quickly turning to the door. Both men rushed down the hall and the front steps of Secilium's manor. To the King's surprise, a horse was waiting next to his own without anyone having brought it. There had not been another soul in Secil's false thrown room and yet, here a horse was prepared with satchels attached at its sides. Despite Baine's shock he did not dare hesitate or raise questions before jumping on his horse. The horses galloped as fast as the men could force them to back to the castle. 

Today would not be Prince Eddar's last day and Secilium would collect from the King.