“Of course,” Kassian replied, his memory catching up with him, “your father would have trained here.”
“Once upon a time,” Inara said wistfully.
Vighon pulled off his riding gloves and walked towards the fortress. “I can guess why you invited us here.”
Kassian stood back so he could better see both Draqaros. “Good. That saves me a long-winded speech. Though you should know it would have been eloquently put, my various points irrefutable. There was a line or two in there that would have brought a tear to your eye.”
The king wasn’t beyond amusement. “You can have it,” he said, referring to the ruins. “Inara and I have already discussed it. West Fellion is yours, a reward for your efforts during the war.”
Kassian bowed his head again. “I humbly accept your reward,” he replied, with just a hint of the usual sarcasm in his voice.
Vighon grinned. “Of course you do.”
“Unfortunately,” Inara added, “this is the extent of our gift. You have the stone and the land, but we do not have the resources right now to help you rebuild. Coin and labour are needed in a hundred other places and they all have families living there.”
Kassian held out his hands. “This is gift enough,” he reassured. “And besides, we do not require coin and labour to move a few rocks around.” He gave Aphira a subtle nod to demonstrate his words. With her wand in hand, she lifted one of the fortress’s loose boulders with a flick of her wrist.
Vighon nodded his head approvingly. “Before you left Namdhor, we spent many a late night talking about this and about what it could be. Are we still in agreement?”
Kassian gestured for the king and queen to follow him into the ruins. “We will work together,” he articulated. “But it will be for the good of the people who need a place like this, not for the realm itself.”
“Yes,” Inara echoed. “We will never call upon your mages to fight for our banner. This is to be a place of learning before all else.”
“A place of safety,” Kassian specified. “In these walls, anyone who is a conduit to the realm of magic will be safe to practice their abilities.”
“It will have the same protection as everywhere else in Illian,” Vighon assured. “And, should anyone from here seek a job, they will have the same opportunities as everyone else. Any prejudice against them will be treated as a crime.”
The latter was of the utmost importance to Kassian, for they could only reintegrate with the rest of the world if they were protected by the laws of the realm. “Though our ethos will be to harness control and learn valuable spells, we will always be guiding people to use their magic to benefit others.”
“What of forbidden magic?” Inara questioned.
Kassian was getting a headache just thinking of the numerous conversations he had weathered on the matter, and not just with Vighon but also his fellow Keepers. “That which is forbidden brings only temptation. Rather than draw a line through magic and punish those who are curious, I believe we should be open about the extremes magic can be pushed to. It’s only by teaching of what came before us that we will learn how to tread the future.”
“Very wise,” Inara said. “And I actually agree. But the magic I speak of has the power to upturn the world.”
Kassian held his hands up. “I’m not suggesting we teach people to raise the dead or walk through time. We need to teach people to be responsible.”
“There will always be those who view their sense of responsibility differently to the rest of us,” Inara countered. “My brother was a prime example of that.”
“That’s where the importance of teaching comes in,” Kassian told her. “We shouldn’t shy away from the horrors we’re capable of when magic is at our disposal. And it puts emphasis on us to identify those who might be at risk of taking a darker path. That’s where the trust between us plays its part.”
“Trust you’ve more than earned,” Vighon pointed out, cooling the atmosphere.
“I would test the extent of that trust,” Kassian replied, pushing the limits of his unique position. “I intend for this place to be one of truth and learning, but it must also be a safe place to experiment with magic so that we might advance our knowledge of it.”
“Experiment?” Vighon repeated dubiously. “You never brought this up before.”
Kassian made an apologetic gesture with his hands. “I know such practices were done in Valatos and never with your knowledge or permission. Unfortunately, it’s a natural reflex when your life revolves around magic. We want to learn more. We want to see where the limits are and break through them. We want to know… everything. There’s no getting away from that curiosity, and if we put restrictions in place, they will just be done anyway, in secret. That’s how your Crows are made.”
“Kassian is right,” Inara said, her argument shifting. “If it’s going to happen anyway, transparency will breed a healthy caution where experimentation is concerned. And, I can think of no other who could see this through,” she added with a touch of warmth.
“You’re sure you’re up to the task?” the king enquired. “Even Korkanath and Valatos didn’t have a vision so broad as this. It’s quite the venture, Kassian.”
“Duty, your Grace,” Kassian corrected. “This is my duty. Seven-hundred and thirteen Drakes gave their lives so magic could endure. This place will be a monument to their sacrifice. And there are surely many in your kingdom who desperately need a place like this to call home.”
Inara responded with a genuine smile. “You are not the man I once met. You are truly free from your chains of grief.”
“The chains remain,” Kassian replied honestly, Clara’s image never far from his mind. “They’re just lighter now.”
“That is good to know,” Inara said quietly. “And your wife would be most proud of what you’ve accomplished. This is
