by Jay Lynn
“Do you think they’re going to attack?” she whispered, privately hoping her words would not spur their charge.
“Difficult to say,” the great sage answered quietly. “This certainly won’t make our departure without issue.”
“It would be too simple for them to strike now. They must know Alec could wipe out a large force with his magic,” Garth added studying the men out of the corner of his eye. “I doubt this is the trap they have set for us.”
“We shall see soon enough,” Alec murmured.
Massive doors held open wide to receive them, the outside daylight did little to penetrate the darkness waiting within the fortress. A tingle traced the mark on Alec’s back. Be on your guard, he warned himself needlessly. Stepping into the gloom, a steel beam was slid across the entrance locking them inside. Glancing behind them at the sound, when Alec turned back, their escort was nowhere to be seen.
Where did he go?
“Looking for someone?” snidely questioned a condescending voice that Alec knew all too well.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here, Jerric?” Malcolm asked, his words echoing through the dark space.
He suspected the master sage for some time now, though part of him wished Kelvin was mistaken in his belief that there was a traitor within the Emerald Sages. Jerric was an egotistical man, but he was still a fellow sage. Honor and loyalty apparently meant nothing to him.
An evil laugh was the sage’s only reply. Suddenly, torches came to life all around the chamber, revealing a whole slew of guards. The large space bore high stone ceilings held up by dark marble pillars spread evenly about. Long shadows cast a sinister gleam, while across the room, Jerric stood in the sole doorway to the corridor. Holding out his hands with a shrug, a smile appeared on his lips.
“I can’t say I’m surprised that you figured it out, former Grandmaster,” Jerric mocked. “You do your sage name credit, Malcolm. Still, it must have been irksome discovering there were things you did not know. Enlighten me, just how long did it take you to uncover the truth? Or was your announcement now merely a guess?”
Malcolm’s jaw tightened.
“So, it was a guess,” Jerric drawled. “How frustrating for the great Cunning Sage to be unable to identify the one tearing his precious academies apart. I have looked forward to this day for a long time, old man.”
“And what day would that be?
“Outwitting you, of course.”
Crossing his arms, Jerric peered down at them from his beak-like nose. A smirk etched in his features, he stood proudly with all the confidence of a predator who believed he had cornered his prey.
“I assure you, boy, that day has not yet come. You are nothing, but a disgrace. Did you really believe siding with our enemies would give you the power you desire?”
The gleam in the other wizard’s face was not comforting. “Yes. Because, unlike King Titus, The Pure are willing to do whatever it takes to be the strongest. You have no idea what is to come. No matter what you do, you have already lost, Malcolm.” Gesturing towards the soldiers surrounding the perimeter of the chamber, Jerric continued, “You are already too late to save Zerrok. King David has perished, as will you.”
The ringing silence which followed held a charged energy. Alec could not recall a time when his teacher ever looked so cross. Hands tightly curled by his side, Malcolm watched Jerric’s gleeful features with sharply narrowed eyes. There was no redemption for him now. The sage was too far gone. And so, it would appear, was Zerrok. The southern kingdom had fallen.
“What of the princes?” the Cunning Sage questioned coolly. “Have you added the sin of their blood to your growing collection?”
“Not yet,” Jerric sneered. “It’s time someone taught you the meaning of fear. You’re not as invincible as you think, Malcolm. Let us duel, just the two of us, and see once and for all who has greater power.”
Pulling himself up to his full height, Malcolm stretched out his fingers. “If a duel is what you seek, then so be it.” The sage quickly glanced back at his companions. “Leave this to me. Our mission must take priority. Save Lady Jade and the princes if you can. I shall join you when it is done.”
Alec opened his mouth to argue, yet stopped as Isabelle’s hand curved over his arm. Squeezing lightly, she let go.
Malcolm will be fine, she silently assured him.
Sighing heavily, Alec nodded. “Be careful.”
The sage offered him a shadow of a smile in return. “Our situation must seem grave indeed if a youngin’ like you is worrying about this old man.”
Snorting, Alec shook his head as he veered to the right, edging around the wizard’s battle. As he and his fellow warriors headed towards the backside of the chamber, Jerric’s slimy voice demanded the older sage’s attention.
“Aww, what sweet sentiments. I do hope you and your barbarian said your final goodbyes.” Giving Malcolm no further reprieve, Jerric raised a palm towards the ceiling. “Airanlor, dark tempest,” he hollered, summoning the first spell.
Thick grey clouds materialized overhead. The swirling mass swept over the space, extinguishing several of the flames flickering about the room. Long shadows were cast across the polished stone floor.
Watching the storm arise, Malcolm slowly drew his blade. His aura rose around him, filling his body with the rejuvenating energy.
Jutting out his chin, Jerric began to stalk towards his enemy.
“Using a sword in a magic battle,” he scolded. “You never change Malcolm. After all these years you’re still as unrefined as your barbarian.”
Stepping forward, the great sage shrugged, causing Jerric to scowl. If he believed his mind games would work on him, then Jerric was sorely mistaken, as he was with so many other things.
Placing a hand behind his back, Jerric removed a whip from his right hip. Uncurling the material, he shot his tainted aura through it. The act was proof enough for Malcolm that there was no saving the other wizard. His spirit was so filled with malice that he could use it as a weapon.
Gradually circling each other, the two sages moved closer towards the center of the space. Meanwhile, the remaining companions strode towards the doorway on the far side of the chamber. The soldiers stationed there quickly zeroed in upon their targets. Their orders were absolute: kill the Dragon Sage.
Garth gripped the hilt of his blade as they were forced to slow their pace.
“What do you think, forty maybe fifty men?”
Alec’s sharp gaze continued to scan them. “Easily. I suppose we should be honored.”
Nathan scoffed, “The army outside would have been much more trouble. I do believe they are counting on the sage to pick us off.”
“Then, they grossly overestimated his power,” Isabelle interjected. “Jerric’s ego is his greatest down fall.”
Weapons firmly clutched in their hands, the three swordsmen shifted so their backs were to the center of their group where Isabelle now stood. The sorceress was stronger with support magic than she was as a warrior. This was her chance to show off some of the skills she’d honed since returning to Malyndor.
“Airanlor, gravity surge.”
The air surrounding Alec, Garth and Nathan fluttered. The steel in their hands felt lighter, and when they moved, their steps swifter. Soldiers nearing them charged without hesitation. Lunging forward, Alec’s blade sank into the first man. No heavier than a feather, he pulled his weapon lose and swung it in a wide circle, slashing at his opponents as Isabelle stayed safely behind him. Hands together, her focus remained on keeping her spell active as the warriors battled around her.
Further to the left, the two master sages began their own private fight. It was more than just two men battling for survival. It was another skirmish in the age-old war of darkness versus light.
Snapping his whip, Jerric attacked repeatedly with the ferocity of a viper.
Malcolm gracefully parried each blow, inching closer as he did so. When the whip wrapped itself about his blade,
the Cunning Sage released his grip, allowing Jerric to cast off his weapon. At the same time, the great sage called up both an energy ball and another surprise Jerric could not hear.
Sweeping his whip back to guard his front, Jerric realized he could not block the blast in time. Instead of summoning his own spell, the wizard leapt to the side, disappearing into the pit of one of his shadows along with his tainted weapon.
Jogging towards his sword, Malcolm’s eyes continued to search the space for his missing foe. Using his foot, the mage flipped the blade into the air, taking hold of the hilt once more.
Rolling out of a shadow, Jerric attacked his adversary’s exposed back with a fire ball.
In the midst of turning, the blast connected with Malcolm’s left shoulder. He staggered, partially hunched over as he regained his footing.
Watching his foe, Jerric frowned. Instead of blood staining the scorched patch of clothing, electricity arched up and crackled at the spot.
Damn it, the evil sage mentally cursed.
Somehow, Malcolm had protected himself with lightning armor without Jerric being aware.
“Do you really believe such a trick is going to protect you?” Jerric sneered. “Your mind is waning, old man.”
Whip in one hand, the sage started unleashing a volley of flames as he snapped his wrist with the other.
Swiftly guiding his sword through the air, Malcolm blocked each attack nipping away at him. Stepping back, his one foot suddenly sank into the floor. Edged backwards, the sage was pushed into one of Jerric’s portals.
Offering his opponent no quarter, the bird-like sage struck again. While his adversary parried one of his flames, Jerric managed to land a crucial blow. The end of his whip encircled Malcolm’s wrist, poisoning the other sage’s aura with his malice. Both a hand and foot encumbered, Jerric knew it wouldn’t be long until the master finally fell.
“How does it feel to be ensnared?”
Malcolm didn’t answer. He supposed it was a good thing Jerric’s ego was so unmatched. The whip loosened around his wrist, but that wasn’t his main concern. It was the fire balls. At the moment, the bombardment had ceased, giving him the opportunity to change the course of this battle.
“Surgeon, lightning storm,” the Cunning Sage called.
The dark clouds circling above them thundered. Streaks of color flashed through the thick grey. Then, by Malcolm’s command, bolts of lightning shot down aiming for Jerric. Jumping back, he released his weapon from his opponent. Fury was etched in his twisted features.
The bright flashes, mixed with Jerric’s distracted focus, allowed Malcolm to pull his leg free. Pain thumped in his left wrist as the skin changed to a blackish-purple color.
“You won’t get away!” roared Jerric. Eyes blazing, he directed a hand at one of the pillars near the other wizard. “Rokon, crumble.”
The stone instantly shattered. Turning to the next one, Jerric repeated his spell.
He will destroy the entire chamber at this rate, Malcolm concluded grimly, as he dodged some falling debris. Closing in upon the doorway, he spotted Alec and his friends finishing off the last of the soldiers.
They were positioned closer to the middle of the chamber. As the columns began to crash down, the warriors raced towards the doorway. With the rate at which the room was caving in, Alec knew they wouldn’t make it in time. Twenty feet from their destination he spun around, lifting his hands as he summoned an air spell to suspend the rubble raining down above them.
The sorcerer directed his powers towards the two main pillars standing between the entrance to the tower and the chamber they still occupied. Jerric was nowhere to be seen as Alec glanced at his teacher racing towards them.
Throughout the chamber, stone columns burst apart, followed by a shower of stone.
Clenching his jaw, Alec kept his hands in place. A loud cracking rang out above him as his friends passed safely through the entry. Gazing up, the sorcerer saw a river of fractures quickly growing. His gazed darted between the ceiling and his teacher. Come on. Just a little longer.
Retracing her steps, Isabelle approached from behind.
“Let me help.”
“Not this time, little lady,” Garth answered for the sage. Looking at both Malcolm running towards them and Alec’s strained expression, he knew there was already much weighing down upon the sage. Literally. Now is not the time for Alec to be worrying about Isabelle, too.
Not allowing her to argue, the swordsman picked the feisty woman up and carried her out of harm’s way.
Sneaking out of a shadow by Alec’s right, Jerric created a knife of ice. Face, hard like stone, he zeroed in on the prince. The others didn’t matter. Alec however, he would not, could not, allow to escape from his trap alive. Body ready to spring, the evil sage gripped his weapon tighter.
“Tsumorri, freeze,” Malcolm hollered pointing at the other wizard.
Ice formed over Jerric’s boots and across the floor in a large circle, pinning him in place. Releasing a breath like an angry hiss, he directed flashing eyes at the master sage.
“You can’t escape me!” Jerric declared with a snarl.
Snapping his whip, the evil wizard caught his adversary around the ankle. Yanked off his feet, Malcolm gazed at Alec. Their eyes met in a silent moment. Watching the grim determination gleaming in the warrior’s chocolate irises, Malcolm knew his former student would not abandon him—no matter the risk to himself. Face set, he knew exactly what he must do. Raising a palm, the Cunning Sage cast one final spell.
“Airanlor, gust.”
A powerful cyclone shot forward, slamming into the younger sorcerer and sending him flying backwards through the archway. Skidding across the polished stone, Alec ceased his slide. He then quickly pushed himself into a sitting position just in time to see large chunks of debris piling up where he had been standing.
“Malcolm!” the sorcerer shouted rushing to his feet. “Malcolm, can you hear me?”
There was no answer from amongst the thunder of still falling rock.
“Malcolm,” Alec shouted again. “Malcolm answer me.”
“Malcolm,” Isabelle echoed beside him. Shoulders slumping, she all but whispered, “Oh, no. He can’t be…”
Dropping to his knees, Alec couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the rubble. He can’t be gone. Malcolm was more than a teacher. He was a friend, a confidant and Alec knew there was still so much he had to learn from the man. No, the Cunning Sage couldn’t be defeated by the likes of Jerric.
Leaping to his feet, Alec focused on the boulders. “Rokon, crumble.”
Blasting the stone, his aura swirled around him, growing brighter with each strike. The sheer mass on debris was so vast that little impact had been made.
Nathan and Garth exchanged a serious glance. Nodding, Garth joined his friend’s side.
“Alec,” he said placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “We need to keep moving. Malcolm wanted you to complete this mission. Besides, Lady Jade needs you.”
The blasts subsided. Slowly, the sorcerer lowered his arm.
“He’s still alive.”
Alec’s firm words left no room for discussion.
Garth didn’t argue. He wanted the wizard to have survived just as much as Alec, even if the odds were against him. Now wasn’t the time to discuss this. Any moment, more soldiers would be closing in upon their location.
“I’m sure he is, but we can’t linger here.”
With a heavy sigh, Alec finally turned away from the wreckage. “You’re right. We have to rescue Lady Jade and the Zerrok princes…for Malcolm. Otherwise, he’ll never let us hear the end of it.”
A brief silence fell before Isabelle stepped forward. “I will go,” she declared, raising her chin. “Concentrate on saving her ladyship. Let me go to the dungeon and seek out the princes.”
“Are you certain?”
Isabelle dipped her head in a quick bob. “Of course. After the battles we faced in the arena, a few mere s
oldiers will be nothing.”
Alec raised a brow. It was times like this he found it difficult to decipher if the sorceress was having a lark or not. Before he could comment, Nathan stepped forward.
“I will aid her. Splitting up is the only way to accomplish both tasks.”
I don’t care for weakening our numbers, but Nathan is right. If we remain together, there won’t be time to rescue everyone. The sage gave them a stiff nod. “When it is done, return to the dragons. And be on your guard,” Alec added. “There’s bound to be more traps here.”
“We will,” Isabelle promised cheerfully.
“Good luck. She can be quite the handful,” the gruff warrior told Nathan with a laugh as the two teams began to go their separate ways.
“I am not,” she denied playfully. Spinning on her heel, Isabelle strode down the hallway in search of the dungeon.
Nathan easily matched her strides. After a few moments, he gazed around with a frown. Since departing the main chamber, they had yet to encounter another soldier. Where was everyone? A fortress of this size should be teeming with guards, yet they hadn’t come across any of the enemy’s forces.
“Do you know where you’re going?” he questioned in a soft whisper.
Isabelle’s rushed steps drew to a halt. “Actually, no, I have no idea where the dungeon is. Do you?”
The swordsman beside her shook his head. Scrunching up her nose, Isabelle’s gaze dropped to the ground. No enemy soldier would volunteer such information. There must be some means for them to discover its location and quickly. The seconds seemed to loudly tick by, reverberating in the unusually quiet corridor.
“I know just the spell,” exclaimed the sorceress suddenly. Holding out her hands, Isabelle’s aura swirled about her like a soft breeze. “Airanlor, echo.”
Sound waves vibrated from the yellow magic circles in her palms. Eyelids drifting closed, flashes of images appeared before her eyes. Focusing intently, Isabelle searched the surrounding layout for the entrance to the lower levels.
“Found it,” she squealed. Turning to the warrior standing beside her, the sorceress motioned with her hand, “This way.”
Moving with great haste, the two companions traveled down the corridors. All the while Nathan’s eyes darted about in silent query. They paused once, allowing a small patrol to disappear from sight prior to continuing on their way. Nothing else seemed to block their path. That changed as they came to the end of the next hall. A pair of large spiked iron gates consumed the entire breadth of the hallway. The warped metal had matching iron snakes coiled amongst the bars. Isabelle cringed at the sight of the vipers. There wasn’t time to analyze the strange décor further. Four soldiers were quickly approaching.