“What is that?” Lorkin asked.

“A symbol we found in the ruined city of Armje. It was a symbol that represented the royal family of that city like an incal symbolises a Kyralian House. Armje is thought to have been abandoned over two thousand years ago.”

“What was the symbol written on?”

“It was carved above house lintels, and we saw it once on what I suspect was a blood ring.” Dannyl smiled as he remembered Dem Ladeiri, the eccentric noble and collector he and Tayend had stayed with in an old castle in the Elyne mountains, near Armje. Then he felt his smile fade as he remembered the underground chamber he’d found in the ruins, called the “Cavern of Ultimate Punishment.” Strange crystalline walls had attacked him with magic and would have killed him if Tayend hadn’t dragged him out just as his shield had failed.

The former High Lord, Akkarin, had asked Dannyl to keep the Cavern a secret to prevent other magicians stumbling inside to their death. After the Ichani Invasion, Dannyl had told the new High Lord, Balkan, of the Cavern, and the Guild leader had ordered him to record what he knew, but also to keep it secret. When the book was finished, Balkan would reconsider whether to allow others to know of the place.

Has Balkan sent anyone there to investigate? I can’t imagine the Warrior would be able to resist trying to find out how the Cavern works. Especially as it has so much potential as a defensive weapon.

“So they knew how to make blood rings two thousand years ago?”

Dannyl looked up at Lorkin, then nodded. “And who knows what else? But that knowledge was lost.” He pointed to the second, smaller pile. “This is all I have relating to the time before the Sachakan Empire conquered Kyralia and Elyne, over a thousand years ago. The few records that we have only survived from that time because they are copies, and they suggest that there were only two or three magicians, and that those had limited skills and power.”

“So if the people who knew how to make blood rings, and whatever high magic was, died without passing that knowledge on…”

“… whether because they didn’t trust anyone enough to teach them, or they never found anyone gifted enough to teach.”

Lorkin looked thoughtful – and definitely not bored, Dannyl noted with relief. The young magician’s attention moved to the third pile.

“Three centuries of Sachakan rule,” Dannyl told him. “I’ve more than doubled the information we have from that time, though that wasn’t hard because there was so little to begin with.”

“A time when Kyralians were slaves,” Lorkin said, his expression grim.

“And slave owners,” Dannyl reminded him. “I believe that the Sachakans brought higher magic to Kyralia.”

Lorkin stared at him in disbelief. “Surely they wouldn’t have taught their enemy black magic!”

“Why not? After Kyralia had been conquered it became part of the Empire. The Sachakans didn’t kill every noble, only those who would not swear allegiance to the Empire. There would have been intermarriage, and mixed blood heirs. Three hundred years is a long time. Kyralians would have been citizens of Sachaka.”

“But they still fought to regain their land, and to get rid of slavery.”

“Yes.” Dannyl patted the top of the pile. “And that is clearly recorded in documents and letters leading up to and following the emperor’s decision to grant Kyralia and Elyne their independence. Both countries abolished slavery, though there was some resistance.”

Lorkin looked at the pile of books, documents and notes. “That’s not what we’re taught in the University.”

Dannyl chuckled. “No. And the version of history you were taught was even less sanitised than what I learned as a novice.” He tapped the next pile. “My generation never knew that Kyralian magicians once used black magic, taking strength from their apprentices in exchange for magical teaching. It was one of the most difficult truths for us to accept.”

The younger magician eyed the fourth pile of books with cautious curiosity. “Are they the books my father found under the Guild?”

“Some of them are copies of what he unearthed. With any dangerous information about black magic removed.”

“How are you going to write a history of that time without including information about black magic?”

Dannyl shrugged. “So long as there’s nothing instructive, there is no danger of anyone learning how to use it from what I write.”

“But… Mother says that you have to learn black magic from the mind of a black magician. Surely you can’t learn it from books?”

“We don’t think it can be, but we’re not taking the risk.”

Lorkin nodded, his expression thoughtful. “So… the Sachakan War is next? That’s a big stack of books.”

“Yes.” Dannyl regarded the generous pile of books and records beside the “independence” one. “I sent out word that I wanted records from that time, and I’ve received a steady stream of diaries, accounts and records from throughout the Allied Lands ever since.” At the top of the pile was a little book he’d found in the Great Library twenty years ago, that had first alerted him to the possibility that the Guild’s version of history might be wrong.

“You must have that time well covered.”

“Not completely.” Dannyl told him. “Most of these records are from lands other than Kyralia. There are still gaps in the history. We know that Kyralian magicians drove the Sachakan invaders out and won the war, and then conquered and ruled Sachaka for a time. We know that the wasteland that weakened the country wasn’t created for several years after the war. But we don’t know how they kept the Sachakan magicians under control, or how they created the wasteland.” And what is the treasure that the Elynes claimed to have loaned or given to the Kyralians, which was then lost, along with its secrets? Dannyl felt a familiar, strangely pleasant frustration. There were still mysteries to be explored, and this was one of the more intriguing ones.

“Why don’t you have records from Kyralia?”

Dannyl sighed. “It’s possible they were destroyed when the Guild banned black magic. Or they might have been lost during the war. So much of history has been muddled. For instance: we’re taught that Imardin was levelled during the Sachakan War, but I now have maps from before and after the war that show a similar street pattern. A few hundred years later, however, we have an entirely new street pattern – the one we know today.”

“So… the age of the maps is wrong, or something levelled the city later. Did anything dramatic happen after the Sachakan War?”

Dannyl nodded and picked up the book on top of the next, much smaller pile. Lorkin hummed in recognition.

“The Guild Record.” His eyes widened in understanding. “The Mad Apprentice did it!” Lorkin reached out and took the book, flicking to the final entries. “It is over,” he read. “When Alyk told me the news I dared not believe it, but an hour ago I climbed the stairs of the Lookout and saw the truth with my own eyes. It is true. Tagin is dead. Only he could have created such destruction in his final moments. His power was released and destroyed the city.”

Dannyl sighed, shook his head, took the book off Lorkin and put it back on the pile. “Tagin had just defeated the Guild. He could not have had that much power left. Not enough to level a city.”

“Perhaps you’re underestimating him, as the Guild of the time clearly did.”

The young magician’s eyebrows rose expectantly. Dannyl almost smiled at the challenge. Lorkin had been an intelligent novice, willing to question all of his teachers.

“Perhaps I am.” Dannyl looked down at the small pile of documents and books. “The Guild… well, it is as though they didn’t set out only to wipe out all knowledge of black magic, but also the embarrassing fact that a mere apprentice had nearly destroyed them. If it weren’t for Recordkeeper Gilken, we wouldn’t even have the books Akkarin found to tell us what happened.”