The doors to the chamber were locked. This was a closed-door, emergency session. The public was not allowed inside."The city is falling apart!" High Councilor Morvan cried out. His voice squeaked in panic. He slammed his fat hand on the dark wood table. "The markets are crashing! The bakers are refusing to bake! The banks are closing! The people think the sky is going to open up and eat them!"Commander Vex crossed his strong arms over his chest. "My soldiers are tired, Morvan. They have been breaking up fights in the streets all night. The people are scared of the dark magic. If we do not give them an answer soon, they will start burning down their own houses.""What do you want me to do?" Morvan whined, wiping his sweaty face again. "The Sage Tower is gone! The greatest magical city in the world was crushed into dirt in ten seconds! We felt the earthquake all the way here! If the Sage Tower can fall, then Glassview can fall too!"Caster sat quietly on his wooden bench. He watched t

"Meeting adjourned," High Councilor Morvan announced happily. He stood up and stretched his fat arms. "Commander Vex, go tell your generals to prepare the marching orders. Elara, write the speech for the broadcast crystals. Tell the people we are going to make the Crimson Alliance pay for their crimes.""With pleasure," Elara smiled."Guards," Vex commanded, pointing a heavy silver finger at the back of the room. "Take the old witness down to the cells. Lock him up. We cannot have a crazy old man wandering the streets telling ghost stories. We will deal with him later."The two guards grabbed Caster’s arms again. They hauled him roughly to his feet. They dragged him toward the heavy wooden doors at the back of the chamber.Caster did not fight them. He let his feet drag on the beautiful floor. He felt completely defeated. He had saved the world, but the world did not want to be saved. The world just wanted a new excuse to bleed.The guards pushed the heavy wooden doors open. They drag

Caster walked into the room. The heavy steel door slammed shut behind him. The lock clicked loudly.The room was called a Cold Room. It was a small, square box made of solid gray stone. There were no windows. The walls were completely bare. In the center of the room was a heavy iron table, bolted directly to the stone floor. There were two iron chairs.Hanging from the ceiling on a single, frayed black wire was a bright, harsh white light bulb. The light swung gently back and forth, casting sharp, ugly shadows across the room.The room was freezing. Caster shivered, wrapping his thin brown cloak tightly around his shoulders.Sitting in one of the iron chairs was a man. Standing in the dark corner of the room was another man.They were the Inquisitors. The man sitting at the table was tall and terribly thin. He wore a long, perfectly clean black coat. His hair was slicked back. His face was sharp, like a bird of prey. His eyes were pale gray, and they looked at Caster with absolute, f

Caster gritted his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut. “No,” Caster commanded his own soul. “Stay asleep.”He forced the golden magic down. He locked it away in the deepest, darkest box in his mind. The physical pain of suppressing the divine power was agonizing. It felt like swallowing a burning coal. But he could not reveal his power. If he used the golden light, they would know he was not a farmer. They would know he was the Rogue Vector.Caster let his body go completely limp in Mercer’s giant hands. He coughed weakly, playing the part of a helpless victim."Please," Caster gasped, acting as if the breath was being crushed out of him. "I told you... everything."Graves watched Caster carefully. He watched the old man's eyes. He watched the way his body hung limply in the air.Graves sighed. He waved his pale hand. "Put him down, Mercer," Graves ordered smoothly."But he knows something!" Mercer argued, shaking Caster one more time."Put him down," Graves repeated, his voice turnin

"Look at him!" the woman yelled. "He is one of them! He pulls the dirt magic! He is going to bring the gray ash to our homes!""Ash-eater!" a man shouted. He picked up a rotting, soft apple from a fruit cart and threw it.The rotten apple hit the young mage on the side of the head. It exploded into a messy, sticky paste.The young mage scrambled to his feet. He was crying. He looked at the angry faces surrounding him. He did not try to cast a spell to defend himself. He turned and ran as fast as he could down the street, slipping in the mud as he fled.The crowd cheered loudly as the boy ran away.Caster stood by a stone wall. His heart broke into a million pieces.These were not evil monsters. These were just ordinary bakers, farmers, and merchants. But fear had poisoned their minds. The political lie told by the High Council was working perfectly.The Council had blamed the fall of the Sage Tower on secret magic and dark spells. They had told the public that magic users were dangero