Curse Of The Fallen City - ebook

Dear Reader,

I would like to thank you sincerely for purchasing my book. This is a great honor for me, because I have always dreamed of developing in this direction and expanding the universe that began in this story. Although I consider myself a "newcomer" to writing, as a big fan of the fantasy genre, I want to pass it on to more readers.

The story I presented in the novel has been knocking around in my head for some time, and the writing process itself took me about a month. Another month was taken up by the editorial care of the professionals at korekto.pl, whom I sincerely thank for their time and great expertise, which helped to polish the product and make it more accessible.

I hope you enjoy reading this novel as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Yours sincerely

A.K. LockwoodChapter I

A Few Words About Geopolitics

Night had come. The moon towered over the city, breaking through the overcast sky with its gentle rays. Honest citizens had long sat in their homes locked up, spending the end of the day with their families. It was getting dangerous here after dark. Those who had been working since dawn were now relaxing, enjoying every moment of happiness. After all, caring for loved ones in this huge, unfriendly city remained an extremely difficult and demanding task.

It wasn't always like that. Braga, once the commercial center of the kingdom of Mercutia - also known as the pearl of the central part of the continent - was at one point even richer than its capital, the city of Merkald. It was here that caravans from all lands came to trade on a scale unprecedented in modern times. Everything was traded: aromatic spices and jewelry from the far east, top-quality weaponry from the north and potions from the south, capable of curing every ailment known to man. A traveler could have allotted an entire day to the market square and still not have had time to see even half of all the booths on display for visitors. The city was bustling and overflowing with riches. The streets were clean and the city guard was subsidized, making citizens feel safe.

Above all, every resident had a chance to achieve something in life through honest work. He did not have to combine or resort to stealing from visitors. There were a lot of them in recent times. They prowled the streets and sought refuge, traveling to the western frontier, from where they would continue their journey across the great sea in search of new lands and the promise of a better future. As it happened, Braga was a city bordering the endless beaches that make up the entire western range of the continent, called the western frontiers. Going there was the fastest way to fulfill the promise of a new life, a promise that many these days would die for. Petty thieves and swindlers did not complain of a lack of occupation.

The old continent was devastated by the Twenty Years' War and was slowly dying. The kingdoms - separated as if by an iron curtain - driven by distrust of their own neighbors, closed themselves off to cooperation. All diplomatic relations - at least the official ones - were halted, as magicians in consultation with the rulers tried to negotiate new trade agreements with neighboring lands and rebuild the trust destroyed by the war. Nothing foreshadowed a fratricidal conflict between the peacefully coexisting powers. Before the war, cooperation and trade flourished, providing a balance that was a guarantor of mirth. Unfortunately, people too often succumb to greed at the expense of common sense, as we have seen time and again in our rich history. We have repeatedly witnessed events indicating that rulers are not always guided by the good of their people. Their decisions - motivated by deep-seated instincts, a sense of superiority, and bad advice from those closest to them - often lead to the awakening of their worst qualities, causing devastating and uncontrollable bloodshed. Equally twenty-five years ago, in the year 1200, the Kingdom of Mercutia contained this explosive mixture, which was bound to errupt sooner or later.

Only here, for unknown reasons, were mages born and lived, the most powerful of whom served as royal advisors. In return, the ruler financed their academy from the kingdom's budget, where they were educated in the four fields of magic they proudly wielded. It should be mentioned that magic was not their only domain. They also possessed above-average intellect, so they were mainly responsible for the development of science in the central land.

Water magic, as the name implies, allowed the manipulation of this life-giving liquid, of which, as it turned out, we have a vast supply within us. It's easy to surmise what a water mage could do to an unfortunate person who stood in his way. The most powerful of the group were able to cause a flood capable of wiping out a sizable city.

The fire school wielded the opposite force of nature. This power also gave life. It warmed in winter or heated raw meat, while providing the sustenance necessary for survival. However, it was also able to take away existence, serving in the manufacture of powerful weapons and complex siege machines for which Mercutia was famous. War technology was highly developed in this part of the continent thanks to fire mages. Only they possessed the knowledge of how to construct and smelt from iron machines breathing flames - like the mythical dragons appearing in fairy tales for children and destroying everything in their path. An adept manipulator of fire could cast simple fireball spells that burned an opponent to ashes in the blink of an eye. The most powerful chosen of the circle were able to amplify this spell to the limit, causing a rain of fire: a spell so powerful that the caster himself feared its power, as it remained highly unpredictable in its nature.

The next circle dealt with air magic. It may not have been as spectacular as the first two elements, but the mages of this circle were no less threatening. After all, air surrounds us from all sides. Adepts were able to evoke with its help a concentrated blast in the form of a ball of wind, which hurt the enemy like a giant's fist - a blow that was often fatal. The archmages of the circle were able to summon a tornado capable of wiping out an entire city with the right concentration.

The last field in which magicians were trained was mind magic - the subtlest of all magical arts. Members of this circle were able to manipulate objects with their own minds, lifting and throwing them at will. Archmages of this circle were powerful seers, able to manipulate the will of their opponents. They looked into the depths of a person to find every memory - even those hidden in the darkest recesses of the mind. Among them there were also those who were haunted by prophetic visions, possessing the ability to communicate with the dead.

This is only a fraction of what this powerful group of people endowed with supernatural powers had at their disposal. However, despite their power, they also had some limitations. After all, they were still mere mortals, and using magic was sometimes very exhausting. Mages could not use their powers indefinitely. A weakened adept was susceptible to a simple blow with a sword, which could put him down like any mortal. Despite the vast knowledge possessed by this group of chosen ones (that's how they used to be referred to), their self-confidence and hubris were lost. They forced the ruler to attack a neighboring kingdom in order to expand their own influence. They wanted to rule the entire continent with him, not just a central slice of it.

King Perun I did not hesitate for too long. As early as 1201, he sent his troops east, to the land inhabited by the Hasins.

They were a proud people, still cultivating nomadic traditions. Although the Hasina were a kingdom and had a ruler, they did not erect massive cities like in Mercutia. They had only a few larger agglomerations. However, they overshadowed the largest strongholds of the north and the cities of the central lands with their beauty. Huge buildings erected of white marble with rows of palm trees densely planted around them gave the impression of being exotic and majestic. Their land, although mostly desert, had vast natural wealth in the form of gold and precious stones, which were their main source of income. They also had rich deposits of raw materials from which they made mosaics, and their craftsmen created the most beautiful carpets that adorned homes across the continent. The easternmost areas abounded in fertile land, where they cultivated a variety of spices - so coveted by court cooks and the wealthier citizens of the other lands. All of this was a tasty morsel for the power-hungry Mercurian magnates, who could not think of further conquests or plan further war campaigns without financial security.

King Perun I conquered a third of the kingdom rather quickly, in just a year. Indeed, this was aided by the famous siege machines at his power's disposal. They were stylized as terrifying dragon heads towering over the battlefield - mounted on a wooden chassis bearing large wheels. The machines breathed fire over vast distances, burning everything in their path.

Nothing lasts forever, however. King Perun and his army, to the surprise of the mages and the ruler himself, were bogged down when the Hasinians showed fortitude by forming an effective defense line along the Acheron River. There they stopped the advance, bravely defending themselves for years. The conflict proved murderous for both sides, with thousands of soldiers and civilians dying.

Meanwhile, powerful warriors called Morgons of a northern kingdom attacked Mercutia. They were tempted by the vision of easily expanding their own influence and territories. They noticed that King Perun was suffering heavy losses on the eastern front. The lands inhabited by the Morgons were hostile, covered with ice and permafrost, but rich in deposits of metals from which all sorts of weaponry were made. If they had been able to conquer the northern part of Perun's kingdom, they would have gained access to fertile lands that were lacking in their land. The Morgon armies plundered and pillaged Mercutia for months, advancing toward the capital.

King Perun sent his most powerful mages to the northern front, grasping at the last resort. They had not participated in battles before. They served him as advisors with strong ties to politics. In this situation, however, they had to face the reality that they had de facto created themselves, provoking him to war.

At first, twenty of them set out. It should be added that mages were few - magical powers were wielded by only one person per one hundred thousand subjects. Thus, they were downright rare. In addition, the matter was not made easier by the fact that their abilities manifested themselves only after they entered adulthood - the age of eighteen. King Perun therefore had only a hundred mages at his disposal at that time. Of these, most were academy adepts - they were not yet able to fully wield their powers, and certainly not on the same scale as the archmages.

The fighting in the north was heavy. Mages repelled successive waves of hostile attacks, caused floods, sent fireballs from the sky. Once they even received a report stating that a powerful tornado appeared on the battlefield, which tore a troop of Morgons to pieces. After ten long years, the enemy was completely repelled. However, it must be remembered that the war continued, and the assault in the east did not slow down, involving enormous resources - both human and financial. The biggest casualty of the northern front was suffered by the mages - eighty-four of them were killed. Only sixteen remained alive, and by a strange twist of fate, four from each field of magic.

Years passed. The war had been going on for two decades when military intelligence reported that the most mysterious yet peaceful of all kingdoms was planning to join the influence game. It was, of course, about the land of the south, which was ruled by the only woman among the mighty - Queen Nirva. The south was inhabited by the Metrusks, divided into tribes and mainly engaged in making potions and all kinds of medicines. Their land was entirely covered with dense forests, providing shelter and raw materials for making medicines. They lived in harmony with the surrounding nature, but they were not defenseless - they had in their army the most talented archers known on the continent. The queen of the south decided to launch an attack on Mercutia, seeing how weakened King Perun was after twenty years of campaigning in war. He did not have sufficient forces to defend himself, let alone open another front. In addition, there was a plague in many of his kingdom's cities, caused by a lack of medicines. During the war, no medicines reached the central lands, as an embargo was imposed on the capital and the entire kingdom.

Then the mages came up with an idea that would change the fate of all the continent's inhabitants forever. Their plan sought to end a war that had been going on for more than twenty years and was just entering a decisive phase. In an agreement with Perun, they agreed that in order to restore balance on the continent and avoid further bloodshed, they would divide into four congregations. They consisted of groups of four members, one from each branch of the magical arts. The congregations were to go and take up permanent residence in one of the warring lands, placing themselves under the rule of the kings ruling there. In doing so, they were also to vow to obey only the ruler in whose kingdom they took up residence. In exchange for peace and an end to war, each ruler was to have mages at his disposal to advise and look after the prosperity of his kingdom through the development of science, thus ensuring stability and leveling the playing field for each land. In this way, the balance of power across the continent was stabilized. No ruler felt too powerful or omnipotent.

The overriding goal of every mage became keeping the peace. They knew that what they had started twenty years earlier could not be repeated. So, they created the Continental Assembly of Magic, consisting of a fixed number of sixteen mages, who would work together across divisions to ensure the rebirth of the continent. The number sixteen was no accident. It was intended as a reminder of the war from which only so many mages survived. The congregation was, in simple terms - an amalgamation of the four congregations that currently prevailed in each kingdom under the administration of the rulers.

Almost all the mages and hundreds of thousands of people were killed in the war. The sacrifice was suffered by all except the mysterious kingdom from the south, which held off joining the conflict for the longest time. There were rumors that the planned attack by the Metruscans was a bluff to end the war. The most peaceful kingdom gained the most - it did not suffer in the war and gained mages who pledged boundless obedience to the queen.

Nirva showed incredible patience and wisdom. This resulted in the signing of a peace pact that went into effect five years ago, in 1221. However, peace is not enough. Without trade and with mistrust between the kingdoms, the entire continent slowly died in tormented agony.

The power of the city of Braga could only be evidenced by its architecture and majestic buildings, interspersed with dense housing. All this crisscrossed by a compact system of roads, reminiscent of the veins in our bodies. The streets were almost empty in the evenings. At the sidewalks a few shabby types and courtesans offering their charms near inns or local brothels. There used to be more opportunities to make a penny - now the residents were grabbing at anything.Chapter II

Another order...

A hooded figure walked dripping with dirt among sparsely lit streets. The atmosphere seemed dense. An ominous aura of mystery lurked in the side branches of the alleys of the poorhouse district. The silhouette with a richly decorated emblem bearing the city's coat of arms passed two guards in an alley near a hovel from which a lick of light pierced the hazy air.

With each step, the sound of coins hidden under his coat could be heard. They fiddled in the owner's pouch, securely fastened to his pants and filled to the brim. The figure stopped in front of the door. He circled, making sweeping movements, as if he wanted to batter down the hatch of the house.

“Open this door immediately!” shouted the newcomer in a loud voice. “I have a case! I am a messenger of the Mercurius administrator! My name is Gravo,” he added, trying to convince the owner of the inn.

No answer came, making it quiet. After a while, Gravo decided to try again and began pounding harder on the door.

“I know you are there! I can see the light,” he said, hoping to get someone's attention. “Open the door, it's urgent! You have an opportunity to earn money. You know very well how hard it is these days to get a few coins!” he continued.

After a moment, a slender, tall man in the prime of life appeared at the door. He was clad in a dark studded breastplate and an equally dark hooded cloak was imposed on him. He had thick, dark hair, with a protruding fringe falling gently over his right eye and his sides cut short above his ears. The upper part of his shoulders was trimmed with faded wolf fur, and on the armor itself - a belt full of compartments, in which the man kept some tools that looked like lock picks and vials of liquids of unknown origin. A dark robe protruded from under his cuirass, and around his hands figured dark double-hardened leather carvings, gently glinting in the glow of the surrounding lanterns. At his pants - a tightly tethered belt, from which dangled razor-sharp knives. On his back was a richly decorated scabbard. Protruding from it was a sword hilt with a black obsidian glistening under the sheath, polished to the extreme. The stone seemed to catch the gentle rays of the moon that sparsely reached the area through the overcast sky, creating a soft glow around the sword.

“I knew I would interest you," began Gravo. “Listen to me carefully, as I am not in the habit of repeating myself.” He took a short pause, took a deep breath and continued, “Have you heard about the recent series of strange, unexplained murders in a residential area? Or that recently people have been disappearing in the city under unexplained circumstances?”

The man looked at the messenger and replied without any emotion in his voice, “Yes.”

Gravo continued, “As you are a former officer of the Black Ghosts, I have a task for you, for which you will be lavishly rewarded. Investigate these murders. Determine who is behind them and whether they are connected to the disappearing people. I am tired of hearing from petitioners that there is some kind of curse on our city.”

It would be appropriate to mention here that the Black Ghosts are an elite reconnaissance unit that became famous for many spectacular strikes behind enemy lines in battles still fought on the Eastern Front a few years earlier.

The hero inside the house, leaning with his hand against the doorframe, took a breath. He looked thoughtful. After a moment of silence, he turned to the messenger with these words, “This is not, by any chance, a task for the city guard?”

Gravo snorted with laughter, then replied, “The city guard is a bunch of losers who are only interested in what they can handle, which is brawls in brothels with drunken customers. So that leaves us with only you.” The newcomer took another breath and continued, “Our city has already suffered too much. People are moving out, others are dying under unexplained circumstances, corruption is rampant among city officials, and now this. The people are beginning to panic. That's why our great steward Mercurius wants to do everything to ensure that Braga regains its former glory and the glory it deserves. I know that your service ended years ago and you are probably a bit rusty, but certain skills cannot be denied you. Even as an officer you towered in intelligence over the rest of the unit. I know the history of your deeds, including the famous battle for the city of Al-Ramun, where you sneaked into the enemy garrison all by yourself. You gathered information that helped destroy all enemy units without the loss of even one of our own. Admittedly, your history in the army did not end well, you were demoted and thrown out on disciplinary grounds. I don't know the details, but you now have a chance to regain your good name. By the way, you will earn some money. I think you won't disappoint our great administrator, Mercurius. Besides, the whole city recommends your services. You are quite popular here. Are you in?”

The man in the doorway began stroking his short-cropped beard and asked curiously, “First of all, tell me, what is strange about these murders? Every day people die in this city, and no one is interested in it. I've already gotten used to the posters with descriptions and photos of the missing hanging on every corner.”

Gravo answered, “What I am going to say now is top secret. The townspeople only know that three men are dead. We don't want to cause panic. As for the case itself, the injuries on the victims' bodies are unusual, but you will learn more about this from the city coroner. In addition, one of the denizens has no head. It was found a few meters from his corpse. On the foreheads of two of them a strange symbol that looks like two horns has been carved with some kind of sharp tool. Between them in the middle is a number eight turned sideways. It somewhat resembles eyes. But I won't go into that, I'm not a scholar. Similar symbols are found on monoliths from the western frontier, discovered on the beach two weeks ago. They were deeply buried, but a recent storm washed up the bottom a bit and the scouts were shown these strange rocks protruding from the ground, all covered with symbols whose meaning we do not understand. The case is being investigated by Professor Salandril, a mind mage, the most prominent historical researcher and linguist. Apparently, he found something interesting there. I can't say anything more at the moment, but if you decide to, you will have a chance to talk to him. Do you understand the sensitive nature of what you heard at this point? Did it interest you?”

“A little," replied the impassive man.

He was not very talkative. Moreover, he even seemed a bit indifferent. However, after a few moments, he looked straight into the messenger's eyes and said, “I will take care of the matter, but I will need a gilet, giving me access to every district in the city. The city guards should stay out of my way, and I will handle the case on my own.”

The messenger, with a smile on his lips, did not hide his excitement. “Of course! I have the documents with me. I knew you would agree. Captain Andre will be informed of your investigation and will not interfere. You also have an inventory of the city guard's findings so far. There's not much to it, but better a fish than nothing, as the saying goes. We also managed to trace the symbol from the crime scene. Perhaps you will be able to decipher it.”

With a quick movement of his right hand, Gravo lifted his coat slightly and reached for a pouch full of gold coins. He handed it to the man's hand, and then said in parting, laughing under his breath:

“Here! That's for your operating expenses. You'll get much more once the case is solved and the culprit is identified. We have to solve it as soon as possible, because in a month a congregation of mages from our glorious kingdom will come here to meet Mercurius. We must act quickly and discreetly.”

The man took all the documents that had been handed over, then hastily closed the door of the household and ran upstairs, where a large table and a notebook were waiting for him. He was already beginning to form a plan of action for the coming days, based on the information he had received from the messenger. He was curious. It had been a long time since he had any serious business. He used to earn a living as a tavern-keeper in local inns, making sure that guests could drink in peace. Occasionally, for a change, he had to give someone a slap on the wrist, keeping an eye on the local brothel owner's orders to make sure customers weren't hurting her employees. After all, there were degenerates who treated them like objects, inflicting suffering for fun.

The most interesting were cases of petty theft. He had quite a few of them, but they were usually simple assignments, not requiring too much commitment. A job like any other; you have to live from something, but it didn't give him any satisfaction. He didn't feel a deeper meaning in it, like when he served in the army of King Perun I, when his deeds mattered.

Night was slowly turning into dawn. Angus - that was the man's name - continued to delve into the documents, trying to put the pieces of this bloody puzzle together. Although at first glance it all seemed like random and particularly cruel murders, he was sure there must be something more hidden here. The victims were found side by side in a poorhouse neighborhood. A strange symbol was carved on their heads, which didn't match anything he had encountered before. Angus decided that for the moment this was the most striking clue. So, he decided that the first place he would go would be the academy in the upper district, where the world-renowned Professor Salandril taught, known for, among other things, studying the extinct languages of forgotten cultures. Gravo mentioned the professor was the head of excavations in the western frontier, who could help decipher the symbol and bring him even a little closer to solving the case. Angus made a hasty note of this in his diary, then went for a well-deserved sleep. He was already weary and just wanted to close his eyes and rest before the next day - a lot of work awaited him.

The next day Angus headed to the academy. It was an extremely majestic place - the soaring towers of the edifice towered over the entrance to the campus and the students. In the courtyard grew a huge oak tree, whose spreading crown gave shade to all those in the square. The grounds were overgrown with perfectly trimmed green grass, and the fine paths surrounding the whole and connecting the various parts of the university were planted with benches, where students prepared for their next classes by leafing through their lecture notes.

Angus went to the main building in search of Professor Salandril. From the lecture schedule, it was clear that he should be in room number 314. The facility was huge, but everything was well described, so Angus had no difficulty finding the right room. However, he had to climb quite a few stairs to get to the third floor.

Outside the hall, Angus met confused students. He approached one of them and asked, “Why are you not at the lecture? I am looking for Professor Salandril, who should be teaching this class.”

The student looked around at his colleagues and replied, “Unfortunately, the professor hasn’t arrived. We’ve been waiting for him for thirty minutes, but there is no indication that he’s going to show up. Other groups have told us that he wasn't at their lectures either, and that's not like the professor. He’s the only lecturer who is never been late to any class.”

Angus looked around once more, as if making sure no one was heading toward the room, then replied in a tired voice, “I understand. Thank you in that case.”

He stepped aside and began pondering whether the professor was connected to the whole affair. What would a respected professor of linguistics and a mind mage have to do with the victims or the crimes? It didn't make sense, but Angus had to consider him a prime suspect at this point. The professor was the only person he knew who could grasp the meaning of these symbols. He didn't know many scholars who were familiar with extinct languages, and there certainly weren't any in this city.

Angus wrote something on a piece of paper and headed to the dean's office to get the home address of the absent scholar. In the office he found a young woman. A beautiful woman with long blond hair, blue eyes, a slender face and delicate hands, with which she was just paging through the stacks of documents on her desk.

“How can I help you? I'm guessing you didn't come to get a schedule? It seems to me that you are a tad too old for a student," she asked with a smile.

She stared intently at the man, and the expressive irises of her lovely eyes reflected his face. It looked a bit as if the woman wanted to mesmerize him with her beauty. No wonder, the man was very handsome and attracted the gaze of the fair sex.

“Good point. If I had been a few years younger and knew that a competent person like you was working here, I would certainly have decided to go to this campus. However, my career took a very different course," the man replied with innate grace.

In conducting the affairs entrusted to him, he often tried to use every opportunity to get the information he needed. At this point, flirting seemed appropriate, as gestures from the caller indicated that she was interested in him. He was not wrong.

The woman continued after a while, saying, “I might think that you are flirting with me.”

She blushed slightly and began nervously looking through the sheets of paper lying on the desk, then returned to the conversation, “You haven't lost anything. I've only been working here for two weeks.” These words were followed by a momentary pause as the woman looked at Angus with curiosity, wondering what the man was doing in her office. “In that case, if you didn't come for the schedule, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“My name is Angus, and at the behest of the Mercurius administrator I am investigating the recent murders. I'm looking for Professor Salandril, who may be able to help solve some questions, but I didn't find him at the university today. I need the address of the professor's residence," the man explained.

“It's terrible that someone is murdering in our city. I have only heard rumors. The guards do not allow anyone to enter the crime scene. Please wait. I'll look at the personnel records for his address," the woman replied, then disappeared behind a long filing cabinet.

Moments later, the handsome woman returned with a receipt that showed the address. She passed it eagerly into Angus' hands and returned to her activities.

“Thank you for your help, Mrs—" the man replied, wondering what the woman's name was.

“Ah, where are my manners? My name is Flavia," she said embarrassed.

“I hope to see you again, Flavia," he threw in a goodbye.

“I hope the same, Mr. would-be student! Good luck with your investigation. Please find the perpetrator and hand him over to the city guard. The residents of this city have suffered too much," she said with sadness in her voice and returned to her duties.

Angus stuffed the receipt into a pocket under his coat and set off toward the professor's apartment. Walking down the main avenue of the upper city, he was terribly distracted. He pondered the case and the fate of the city and tried to get his thoughts together. Paradoxically, the upper district, despite being the most beautiful part of the city, was inhabited by the most depraved and decrepit people Braga had seen. Here, beauty was intertwined with inner corruption like gangrene spreading through a person's body. He glanced at the nearby benches adjacent to the sidewalks where workers sat working for the wealthier citizens. Taking advantage of a moment's respite, they busied themselves with pieces of stale bread that they had worked hard to earn by cleaning nearby homes, tending to gardens or making a living at small repair jobs.

The upper city was a concentration of aristocracy and officials. Only here did the possibility of some honest work still survive; "honest work" meant the kind of work that did not involve theft and robbery, for which the city guards would throw offenders into the dungeon or flog them in front of the crowd. No one here was planning a career. Workers knew perfectly well that they could make a miserable wage with someone from this district or steal in other parts of the city. For honest people, the choice was obvious - they accepted the treatment from above, becoming, as it were, slaves of the upper class in exchange for a small fee for their services.