Alkadian Entaris Beldier III

Over hand, under hand, loop, knot, over hand, under hand, loop, knot, over hand, under hand.....

Whispering the pattern to himself as he worked meticulously into the morning hours, Alkadian turned his head to look at the door without loosing a beat or missing a single thread. The tavern room was empty, as he had requested, but he still felt as though hungry eyes were upon him. He turned back to his project and allowed himself to get lost again, in the beauty of the craft. Thoughts and memories wandered, but his attention was never compromised. He had always been very focused.

**********

"Where is the boy?"

"In your study my Lord Master." answered the halfling servant to his employer, Lord Alkadian Beldier II. "He plays, my Lord, with the kitten Master gave him."

Without a word the tall Grey Elven Lord walked past his servant and continued down the winding halls of his sub-terranian mansion. He walked in comforting cold, passing masterpieces and artifacts hanging from walls and displayed on pedestals. Downward deep into the heart of his precious home. His wealth was unquestionable.

The Beldier family had been living in Northern Thesk since even before the time of the Emperor, though they benefited from his Reign of power once it came to pass. They were amongst the highest of the noble families, and controlled large stretches of land, both below and above the surface, in the name of the Dark Emperor of course. His father had been the most successful in his family line, and since then their influence and resources had flourished. Now it was his job to maintain the respect and power of the Beldier family, and one day this job would pass on to his son. The young Alkadian III. This though constantly troubled the Lord. His son had always been...a bit different.

With a snap of his fingers the doors to his study swung open. He saw his boy laying on the floor, surrounded by books (as always) kicking his feet happily and reading page after page. He didn't even look up when the doors collided with their stoppers, but instead turned the page and continued reading.

"Hello Father."

"I see you've taken to the books again, boy. I had thought you made short work of my collection some time ago." There was no humor in his voice.

"Oh yes Father, But I wanted to read them again. You wouldn't believe how many spelling errors and broken concepts these old Masters dictated! This book alone has fifteen!" The excitement in his voice was rang with the spirit of youth, but with none of its innocence.

"And what of the Kitten I had sent to you. Was it not to your liking? Perhaps a Puppy, or a fine exotic bird?"

"Oh I love Nephtys Father! She had gone to hide under the Divan. I fear she doesn't care much for me.."

"Well, it's no matter," His Fathers tone grew more serious. "I have made the arrangements to begin your schooling early. You are to leave for the academy within the day. House Arhal's second son has graduated with high honors from the Academy of the Silver Tomb, and we can't let the influence of our name be outdone by those human filth. You are to attend the arcane academy, and regain some of our family's honor."

"Oh no Father! I don't want to go to that terrible place! Why do I have to go! Grandpa' never made you attend the Academy! He taught you himself! I want to be taught here. This is my home!" The boy stood, legs shaking. "Please Father! I'll be good!" He ran up and grabbed his father by the front of his midnight blue robes. "I promise I wont ruin any more of your papers. I just know I can learn to use magic on my own. Just like you and Grandp-"

The slap seemed to silence the whole room. Young Alkadian fell to the floor gripping his cheek. He simply looked up in surprise, eyes wide with confusion.

"I will NOT listen to you argue this point boy." There was no compromise in his voice. "You will go to the Academy and you will achieve the highest honors they have!"

"But Fathe-"

There was a crack of light and a scream.

The bolt of energy had left the young boy laying on the study floor, lifeless and smoking. The Lord stood there for a time looking down at his son's dead frame, shaking his head in disappointment. Two of the house guards came running into the now silent room.

"Is something the matter Master? We heard a strange noise."

"Everything is fine. Take the boy's body, and bring it to the Accademy. They are under my command to return life to his body and begin his training in the morning. And let this be a lesson to those who venture to question my commands!"

"Yes Lord Beldier" they replied in unison. With a confused look to each other they hefted the small child's body and left the room.

With quiet contemplation the Lord slowly picked up the thick books his boy had been reading, and returned them to the shelves. He paced around the room, looking from time to time at the mantle where his Father's portrait hung. His face was grim and cold, and seemed to look down on him in begrudging approval. He walked silently over to where the Divan sat in the corner. He snapped his fingers and clicked his tongue, but he heard no noise under or around the chair. He raised an eyebrow in interest, and knelt to peer underneath.

The smell and sight all hit his nose at once. Stretched out along the carpet in the shadows was a long pile of small fur patches and strips of wet red ribbon. On the ground before it was a shiny silver letter opener.

His boy had always been a bit different.

**********

Looking under the bed revealed there was indeed no one hiding in his room, so returning to his desk be continued working. His hands moved swiftly and precisely with excitement and fascination. He wound tiny strands of red ribbon around the center of a long thin shaft. It was bleach white and carved with thousands of tiny characters. The knot work of the winding ribbon was so detailed it was like a language of its own. He licked his lips in excitement as the threads met and fused together at the tip of his masterpiece. He still had much work to do, and no interest in stopping. Pulling out a handful of tiny crystals he set to work chanting over them. His tongue formed the words effortlessly and his mind went to wandering.

**********

Time alone at the Academy was indeed a rare event. One must either be a high ranking official or be under solitary confinement for breaking the Academy's strict rules. Alkadian felt safe and calm in the darkness of the holding cell. The other boy surly had no need for both eyes, so Alkadian felt no guilt in his crime. Unlike the others, he liked solitary.

After they had locked the doors and cast the wards, he set to work moving the tiles on the floor of the cell. He worked for several minuets, and when the pile was moved a secret compartment revealed a thick and dusty book. He pulled it out excitedly and set the tiles back in perfect place. The book was heavy and had as many pages as a castle has stones. Alkadian had always been brilliant when it came to reading, even in languages he didn't yet understand, but this book was proving to be a real challenge. This thought exited him. He had been reading it off and on these past eleven years at the Academy, and just now figured out how the language truly worked. It kept shifting and changing in patterns based on the year and distance between four specific stars in the sky. He had just recently begun the translation.

It spoke of not just the Philosophies but the Principals regarding the shift in magical energy a body could hold before and after death. The topic is what had made the book take hold of his fascination. Something about the concept of what happens once a body dies had always filled him with questions that needed answering.

According to the text different entities all had potential for containing and channelling magical energies. Elves, Fey, Dragons and the like all had heightened receptors to these forces and therefore acted like uncorked bottles in regards to the gaining and dispersing of energy. It also stated that upon death the body in fact could reach all new capacities and potentials for containing magical energy. This is why undead were common. Zombies and Skeletons were nothing more than an empty battery for magic, controlling their perished shell. It also spoke of a process in which a body could achieve death, but remain intact with its spirit and therefor the potential for power would in fact double. Both spirit and uninhibited body working together to reach levels of magical understanding and control that was unimaginable. The key to this process know as "Alteralichancorany", was an item called a Phylactery.

He sat alone in the darkness taking it all in. Learning much, and finding dark and mysterious ambitions within himself.

"Phylactery........" A cold and musical laughter began to fill the cell.

**********

He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, stretching and popping his aching spine. He had to take a break to maintain focus.

His dark blue robes had been piled on the bed hours ago, and now he sat down beside them. He reached into a sleeve and produced his spellbook, bound in tightly woven black leather adorned with a scale motif, like that of a Dragon's wing. He flipped through it, taking in the words he had read countless times. He reflected on his training and began fighting back that cold feeling of loneliness that was always inside him. He tossed the books aside and held his fingers up before his tired eyes. Then he spoke the words.

A small trickle of black liquid began to seep from his finger tips. It smelled deadly and tiny waifs of steam rose from its surface. Closing his eyes and letting go of his fears he took the fingers to his chest and began to trace the runes all over again. The black acid tore away at his old scars and left new fresh ones. His pale skin bubbled and hissed as the symbols spelled out his plan across the foul canvas of his chest. Arcane words that meant both life and death. Sigils of an ancient design that held secrets few dared to inquire for. It was his reminder that he had a purpose in life. The words were his dreams and the pain was his price. He had payed it a hundred times and would pay it again gladly every time. He refused to let these symbols ever leave him. They were him.

After all these decades the pain had become comforting. He let the wounds sizzle and heal. He was awake now, and there was much work to be done.

**********

The doors to the study creaked open silently. The room was utterly dark. No light had passed these doors in almost eight years. The figure inside sat reclined in his arm chair tracing the words to an old book using a silver letter opener. He didn't bother looking up. He just turned the page and continued reading.

"Hello Boy"

"I've come back from Academy Father. I've become quite the powerful Mage, they tell me."

"Good. I assume you achieved top of your class? I would expect no less from my own Son." Lord Beldier II closed the book and set it to one side. He folded his hands in his lap and waited.

His son began walking slowly towards the bookshelves against the wall. The darkness that filled the room bothered neither of them. They were Grey Elves. He traced the spines of the books with his finger and sighed at the fond memories.

"Not at all Father. You see, I was learning a bit too fast. They kept having to adjust the classwork to keep up with my skill levels. It grew quite frustrating honestly. It seems that showing your teacher how spells should really work is quite against the rules, and will lead to an immediate expelling." He laughed softly to himself.

"You were EXPELLED from the ACADEMY!" His Fathers voice rose to a roar as he shot to his feet. "This will RUIN our family name! You have brought shame to the Belider house! I will have your hea-"

"No Father." Alkadian shot back. "It is YOU who have shamed this family. You have fallen into this silly game of houses and honors. You think there is power HERE behind these stone walls? You think there is power in the title of Lord? No, you old fool. There is power out there," he shouted pointing to the sky "In the stars. And in the air, magic drifts like strands of thread. You can't even start to comprehend the concept of real power. The gifts that could be granted to our kind. You will never understand true magic. Your nothing but a Sorcerer. And now it is I who will take our family name and guide it to the limits of its real power." He brought his extended hand down swiftly revealing a long thing shaft gripped tightly in his hand. Black runes and red ribbon glowed with arcane energy.

"This is madness...I knew your mind was broken... Ever since you were a lad. Curse my pride, I should have left you dead!" His fathers face was cold with rage.

"Perhaps" Alkadian replied thoughtfully to himself.

The room exploded in the arcane flame as the doors closed behind him. Books and furniture all reduced to ashes under the heat of the magic fire. The wand hummed with energy between his fingers, and he could feel the magic still left inside. It was pulsing and full.

As Alkadian Beldier III left his childhood home, the great sub-terranian mansion "Castellum Beldier", for the last time he felt the spirit of youth return to him. As he made his way up the steep steps to the surface he looked at the wand in his hand. Its runes now dead and lifeless, he cast it aside into the brush. There would be more.

His Fathers robes fit him perfectly, and the symbols and jewelry with it announced him for what he was. The New Lord Beldier. He continued walking as smoke from deep under the earth poured outward and darkened the sky like a veil.

**********

The final gems had been placed, and all at once the wand came to life. The runes crackled with energy and the soft glow warmed his sleepless face. His lips curled into a wicked grin. His companions were no doubt still sleeping. They once again had proven to be a very wise investment of his time. Gold and reputation had fallen to all of them during their exploits. He knew they never truly trusted him, nor did they have any reason too. He would lend them his power, and in turn use theirs as his own. It was a good relationship.

He donned his heavy robes over the still hot scars before pulling on his boots. He decided to forgo sleep tonight and just begin down the stairs to break his fast. His friends would be down sooner or later, and while he wanted to show them his new toy, he new they would see it soon enough....