Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach - Jeff Inlo (the best motivational books .txt) 📗

The fog drew close upon Matthew as he guided the two elves through the streets of Connel. The previous evening was a cool one, allowing for warm fires within hearths as well as vast quantities of dew, even in the dusty streets. As the sun broke the eastern horizon, the warm rays excited the layers of moisture into a jubilant mist.

Such was not uncommon for the growing season. It would take the passing of many more days before the ground absorbed enough heat to refuse the wetness of night, before the onset of the dry season when long hot days began at first light.

Matthew silently thanked Godson for the fog, a blanket of security and secrecy from prying eyes. If he had to walk the streets with strangers, far stranger than any might believe if they could see the ears which were hidden behind the forester caps, it was best to do it behind a veil of mist. It would not take long for the rising sun to burn off the last remnants of the fog, but it lasted long enough to see the two cloaked figures follow Matthew through the doors of the town hall.

Surprisingly, they were guided directly into the mayor’s office within moments of their arrival. Matthew did little more than announce their presence and an urgency to speak with the town council. The receptionist greeted the request with unfettered nervousness, rather than the cold dismissal Matthew expected. As the two elves and the reader were left with the mayor, the door thumped shut with the heaviness of a vault.

Matthew, Mappel, and Lief found themselves in a dimly lit office with the blinds shut. The cobblestone fireplace remained cold and dark. The growing warmth of this morning required no fire, but the sterile cold and dimness of this office begged for the bright flames.

Mappel pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders to shield him from the strange chill. He allowed himself a moment to inspect his surroundings. The room was much bigger than Matthew’s chamber at the church and included many more lavish decorations, but Mappel found this room uninviting. As he turned his head about, he noted the dark paneled walls that appeared newly cleaned. The thick rug also appeared fresh, and clear of dirt. The air smelled of disinfectant, and the windows remained closed. The office was almost completely devoid of life and nature. It certainly held no inviting hand to an elf, and for perhaps the first time in his life, Mappel felt his age.

Lief also found no comfort within these walls. The large volumes of books upon the shelves did not impress him. Neither did the paintings hanging upon the walls. Again, he felt trapped and contained, but even more so with so many distractions placed around the room. He longed for the green of the forest which was notably absent in this seemingly lifeless environment.

Matthew stepped forward ahead of the elves. He faced the large mahogany desk which stood majestically in front of them. The desk top, outlined with gold edging, contained piles of miscellaneous papers. It also contained the name plate of the current mayor, Edward Consprite.

Consprite sat in a full thick leather chair, behind his desk. The chair was turned to face the back wall and the three guests could only see the top of his balding head barely peeking over the hilt of the chair.

Matthew went to clear his throat to gain the mayor’s attention.

Before he could make a sound, Consprite swerved his chair about and faced his visitors for the first time. His expression revealed his total lack of joy for their presence. His eyebrows raged downward in the middle, creating a crease just above the bridge of his nose which rose upward to his forehead. His jaw remained tight as he placed his hands down flat upon the desk top. He examined his visitors with notable disdain.

After his eyes whisked quickly over the two cloaked companions, Consprite’s stare fixed coldly upon Reader Matthew. He frowned, almost angrily. His teeth barely broke their clench when he finally spoke.

“Why are you here?” he asked bluntly and coldly.

Matthew was taken aback by the surly approach. Members of his church were used to poor attitudes of other townspeople, but never such outward hostility. They were normally laughed or scoffed at, usually ignored, but hardly ever challenged with great antagonism.

The reader gathered himself and tried to ease into a conversation. “Thank you for seeing us. I have to admit I was surprised you would see us so quickly. Usually the council is rather reluctant to meet with members of my church.”

The mayor would not let him continue. He spoke with demanding impatience as well as anger. “What do you want?” It was much more of an order than a politely, or even tactfully placed question.

Consprite’s anger again caught Matthew off guard. He stood silenced for long moments. Lief and Mappel remained behind him, their gazes shifting back and forth from the mayor to the reader.

Matthew finally contained his surprise and stiffened himself with new resolve. His thoughts garnered an image of Godson. With a new focus, he met the mayor’s angry glare with simple inner strength.

“I wish to speak to the council on matters of great importance.” His voice reflected little defiance and no arrogance. “Do not misjudge my intentions. I am not here simply on behalf of my church. I am not going to make any demands of funds. I am here to inform you. What I will tell you, you will need to know. If you do not hear me out you will not be happy with what you might face in the future.”

The mayor’s eyes remained fixed upon the reader. His expression changed ever so slightly. It continued to contain outward hostility, but even Matthew sensed a note of concern behind Consprite’s flashing eyes.

“What is it you have to say?”

“I would rather speak to the entire council. This is a matter which will affect everyone in this town, everyone in the land.”

Consprite appeared quite unfazed by this remark. He made no scoffing gesture and spoke not a single word of rebuttal. If anything, the hint of concern grew ever so slightly.

This reaction wasn’t lost upon the reader. He expected to face more than doubt from the council; he expected to face downright disbelief and ridicule. After all, he was merely the reader for the Church of Godson, an unenviable position in a place filled with nonbelievers. Surely, he would have great difficulty in convincing the council of any of his story. This was why he brought the elves with him. Without them, he honestly believed his tale would not gain a single shred of respect from the council, especially from the mayor. He could only hope that the presence of the elves might sway them into accepting at least a portion of his story.

Now, however, he looked into a face that showed a great sign of concern; not at all what he had expected. The mayor was absorbed with some great anxiety, and Matthew’s appearance in his office did little to ease his tensions.

“The council can not convene today,” Consprite again spoke bluntly. “You will have to speak to me and me alone.”

Matthew did not let a second wave of surprise break him from his intentions. He wavered only for a moment, searching for the right words to convey the true importance of what he had to say, and then offered his own response. “I do not think that is a wise idea. I can only say that my message is of great importance. It would be better if the council heard it together.”

The mayor slapped his hands angrily against the top of the desk. His palms hit with such force that papers lifted up in the air before wafting back down slowly to their previous, albeit more confused, positions. All three visitors jumped slightly at the violent sound which cracked through the room. Consprite gave them little regard as he clenched his open hands into fists. He then brought them to his sides as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Look reader,” Consprite spoke with a low snarl, a growl like a trapped, frustrated badger. “I don’t think you understand! I said the council can not convene today. Now you will give me your message now or I will have you locked up for creating a public disturbance.”

“I have created no disturbance!” Matthew blurted out with astonishment. He never anticipated such a response from anyone on the council, and he had not even revealed the outlandish tale he was now forced to tell.

Consprite leaned ever so slightly forward in his chair, as if to emphasize his conviction. “You just spoke of a message which will affect everyone in this town as well as everyone in the land. Those were your words. Do you deny them?”

“No, but …”

“But nothing. Those are the words of a rabble-rouser. They create panic and mob rule. Now you will get on with what you have to say or I will have you locked up, and you will never see the light of day again.”

Matthew felt his knees grow weak. “You can’t do that, you have no right.”

“I have every right! I’m about to issue an order imposing martial law! That gives me the right!”

Consprite caught himself before continuing. He cursed under his breath. He face was now crimson and his anxiety was as obvious as ever. He uncrossed his arms and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

Matthew stared disbelievingly at the mayor. “Martial law?”

The mayor did not respond other than cursing under his breath once more.

“You can’t do that,” the reader repeated himself.

The mayor stood up angrily, grabbed a paper from his desk and shook it at the reader. “Yes, I can. And here’s the order that proves it. If this doesn’t convince you of how serious I am, I don’t know what will.”

Before Matthew could say another word, Mappel stepped forward to the edge of the mayor’s desk.

“This has gone on long enough,” the elf spoke with conviction before pulling the hood of his cloak away from his head and removing the forester’s cap. His pointed ears stood revealed for all to see. “I am an elf, and as I believe every one in this room already knows, the end of an