Aurora’s Sundering

Late one autumn evening, before the first blush of winter wound its way across the ocean, I found myself relaxing over a hot cup of tea as an old man regaled the room with a fable. He spoke of a place where magic still lives; where lightning touches the land, and strange fires dance across the skies.

Should you seek to find them, know there stand two islands, their backs together separated only by a narrow strait. Great cliffs rise on either side, allowing no passage to ships or curious travellers. The only thing passing these rocky shores is an icy wind that whips out of the North and across the Mervast. It is clear to any who look upon it that they were once one island. An island, they say, that was once ruled by two wizards who had the great misfortune of meeting Johnny Peacock.

It was surely Fate who first brought Captain Peacock to the shores of Aurora. With no deliberate purpose, nor clear reason for landing there save the minor repairs that a ship in use will need from time to time, he settled into an evening of carousing with the local populous.

The small port town of Aurora was the only city or village of note dotting the landscape of the tiny island, and its people were generally known to be a quiet sort of folk who kept to their own during the day and sought no real relations with the outside world. It was here that Peacock first heard of the Wizard Haelvich.

Haelvich was a mighty wizard who ruled over the town. His keep was a high-walled villa designed more for intimidation than security. But security was never an issue on Aurora – The wizard held all the power. For in his possession was the famed Ardorstaff, a weapon of virile power and appetent strength such as would drive a simple mortal insane. There were few who could wield its power, and fewer still who could claim the enormous pleasure such power contained. Johnny Peacock craved it for himself.

Stealing this staff would be no simple feat, and the Pirate knew he would need all his wits about him as he made his way into the keep at the top of the hill. Lights and music spilled from the open doors as he approached, marking a celebration of some gaiety.

The great hall was awash with carnal pleasures as men and women in all states of undress undulated in time to music. Some feasted on elaborate dishes while others partook of drink and exotic herbs. Still more enjoyed themselves and each other on pillows and couches scattered about the room. Under normal circumstances he would be more than happy to partake of the enjoyments offered, but tonight he had a greater desire to satiate.

In the middle of it all, standing still and erect in the midst of the whirling luxuria, was a large stone altar. An amethyst-coloured cloth draped over the surface and down both sides, its silk pooling on the wooden floor. On its hard surface, resting between two large pillar candles, was a long, knotted-wood staff.

Any man who looked upon it would have been entranced. It’s long shaft was a kind of hardwood never before seen anywhere in Denisi, and the jagged crystal affixed to the top pulsated with a purple-and-blue light. He had to have it for his own, even not knowing what power it possessed. Such a keepsake was surely worthy of his collection.

The Wizard Haelvich was found at the center of it all. He wore the energy of the party around him like a clock, gathering its seeking tendrils to him and channelling them into the staff. As Peacock watched the power ebb and flow with the movements of the crowd, the wizard reached out and grabbed hold of the exquisitely pale, blonde woman be his side and led her onto the dance floor, fully enraptured by her perfect beauty.

The Siren Vixia was famed for her seductive powers, even among others of her kind. Looking at her sultry figure, hugged tightly by her green silken dress, Peacock willing conceded how someone could be lost to her charms. Although he had never seen a Siren in person before, he knew the stories of their ways well enough. He watched, enjoying the moment as her weave her faerie magic around Haelvich.

As Haelvich lost himself in the power of the room, Peacock took hold of the Ardorstaff, grasping it firmly in his right hand. It fit easily in his grip, settling into a steady rhythm with his own power. Scepter in hand, he made a casual turn around the edges of the room, before slipping silently out the door.

He paused on the far side of the room, looking back at Haelvich for any sign of pursuit. There was none. Haelvich’s arms were wrapped around the temptress’s waist, his face buried in her neck and hair. The nymph looked over Haelvich’s shoulder, straight at Peacock. She smiled knowingly at him, and grabbed Haelvich’s face, kissing him deeply.

Peacock laughed, and stepped back into the night air with his prize.

Captain Peacock was not a man who would count on luck alone to see him through, and so he took up the staff and made his escape to the far side of the island, far outside of town, and the easy reach of the wizard Haelvich.

Grinning at his good fortune, Peacock held the staff in both hands and began channelling its power up through his arms. Nothing happened. He gripped the staff tighter, rooting its base in the soft earth. Nothing. He gently stroked the knots and whorls with his fingertips. There was no reaction from the staff. No matter what he tried, he was impotent to release the secrets held within.

He shouted in frustration. The answer should be simple, yet it remained outside his reach. He settled himself in the dirt, cradling the staff across his lap. No matter how long it took, he was determined in his quest.

The night wore on, the shadows growing deeper, the hours growing longer, and still he made no progress. He had all but resigned himself to keeping it as an ornament on his bulkhead, when a light, glimmering in the distance, caught his eye.

At first it was a faint light, possibly a trick of tired eyes, but the more he watched, the more it bore the resemblance of firelight. Green firelight. Peacock carefully approached the source of the glow, following its faint trail to a crack in the mountainside.

Peacock cautiously entered the cave, not knowing what could be within, but having his suspicions. As he crossed the threshold, the light suddenly flared, busting into a cacophony of light and sound, and a voice boomed out from all directions, “Who enters here?”

“I am Captain Johnny Peacock,” he returned in a commanding voice. “King of the Pirate Isles; diplomat, engineer, and magician! I come in search of the secrets of the Ardorstaff!”

“The Ardorstaff?” The echo subsided as a man very much Haelvich equal emerged from a darkened hallway. “The Ardorstaff, you say? What is it to you?”

Peacock presented the staff, holding it at shoulder height so the other man could clearly see.

The other man laughed long and loud. A genuine laugh with some unhidden malice to it. “I am Urlan, friend. Come.” He waved for the pirate to join him at his altar.

The details of what progressed in the following negotiation have been sadly lost to history. Yet we can guess that Captain Peacock offered very little initially, seeking only answers for himself, and was countered by a wise and witty wizard. In the end, I presume both sides were happy enough with simply unlocking the power and diminishing Haelvich’s hold on the island, for an accord was struck, and the began the rituals to unleash the Ardorstaff.

Time stretched on as Captain Peacock invoked and incanted with the wizard Urlan. Energy and magic swirled around the cave as the two men engaged in their mystical saltation, power leaping from one to the other, growing and pulsating with a need for release. Late was the hour when Urlan finally turned his focus to the Ardorstaff, and began to channel the energy into its rigid form.

The release was coming. Peacock felt the magic preparing itself to loose the power contained within the staff, but just before satisfaction could be his, Haelvich and Vixia charged into the cave.

“Thief!” Haelvich cried, breaking their focus. “You dare to enter my home and take what is rightfully mine?”

Peacock smiled that knowing smile of his and stepped between Haelvich and the staff. “I merely picked up an unused stick that was lying around,” he said. “How was I to know it was yours?”

Urlan chanted, continuing his spell as Haelvich and Vixia barged in.

Seeing the other wizard across the cave, Haelvich shouted, “Urlan!? I should have known you were behind this!”

Urlan said nothing, only continued to work his magics as Peacock engaged Haelvich.

“Perhaps we can come to an agreement of sorts?” Peacock said.

“I will not fall for your tricks, fool,” Haelvich said. “Give me the staff!”

Peacock shook his head. “I think not.”

“Haelvich’s staff will respond to no other man, I assure you.” Vixia purred as she stepped further into the room.

“I see you came well armed, at least.” Peacock laughed.

Vixia slinked over to where Urlan stood, focusing his energy into the staff’s crystalline head.

“You know where his power truly lies, don’t you Urlan?”

Urlan continued his spell, ignoring the temptress’s allure.

She sauntered closer, playing sensually with the fabric of his robes. “Why not set aside your work and come play with me instead?”

Urlan continued chanting.

She draped herself across the altar, staring into his eyes. “Wouldn’t you rather have your hands on me, instead of that silly staff?”

Urlan reached out carefully and placed a single fingertip on the siren’s chest, pushing her backward away from where he was working.

Vixia gave a frustrated screech, still Urlan refused.

“Poor thing,” Peacock said. “It seems Urlan is only interested in Haelvich’s staff. Luckily for you, I am more easily swayed by your considerable… charms.”

Vixia turned to him, ignoring Urlan. “A plaything like you could never harness the power of Haelvich’s staff,” she told him. “Still, I think it’d like to see you try.”

“I am more than strong enough to take whatever power comes from within that old wand.” Peacock smiled at the seductress, “Would you like to see?”

“Ha! You fool,” Haelvich cried. “The power of the staff comes from me, not the other way around.” He raised his hand, uttering a short incantation, summoning the staff to himself. The staff surged from the altar, flying across the cavern to Haelvich.

Urlan threw up his hands, uttering a counter spell. The Ardorstaff stopped, unable to move as the two wizards battled for control of it.

Back and forth, the staff was pulled between them. Stroke after stroke pulled along the hard shaft of the Ardorstaff as they fought for control. The energy in the room mounted, growing, and rising as the tension came to a head.

Unsure how much more it could take before spilling its magic onto everything, Vixia reached out, throwing herself onto the staff.

A blinding flash let out, exploding all over the cave. Vixia let out a soft moan as her body dropped to the ground, and Peacock’s vision went black.

When he awoke, Captain Johnny Peacock was on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. Feet from where he lay was a sheer drop-off that was not there before. The island had sundered, split in two from the power released by the broken Ardorstaff.

The wizards were nowhere to be seen.

Some who look upon this island now speculate how it came to be split to perfectly in twain. Upon hearing this tale, I had to see it for myself, and sure as I am telling you this now, the island stands. Perhaps the Gods realized that such power was too much for mortal hands, or the staff itself reordered the land, all I am sure of is that at times the night sky still lights up with purple and green flames that dance across the shattered island of Aurora.