Blackest Spells

by Phipps, C. T.

  “That devious hag!” he shouted while slamming the tome shut. “Is it revenge you want?”

  “Yes.” I looked up, eager to plan our next move, but then caught my excitement when I realized there was more at stake than my vengeance. “I mean…I do, but there are greater matters to worry about.”

  Wyland walked around his desk to approach me, his grey robe swaying across the floor. “What could be greater than avenging my would-be queen?”

  I had to tell him what happened, though the memory, still fresh in my mind, was painful to recall. “The witch tricked Grace into entering a blood rite. They were bonded as family. And now that Grace is dead our betrothal has passed to the witch. She is set to be my queen.”

  “That fiend!” Wyland clenched his fist and sneered. “How am I just learning about this now?”

  My back stiffened at his sharp-edged words. I wasn’t accustomed to people speaking to me in such a tone, especially since becoming king when my father and brother perished in a shipwreck those few months ago. I was willing to overlook Wyland’s temper, though, given the circumstances. The young wizard, barely two decades old, was my only hope to stop the witch’s machinations.

  “We didn’t want to cause a panic,” I answered. “I thought I could handle the witch myself, but after I learned of her trickery I ran straight back here to you.”

  “You should’ve notified me the second you knew the Black Witch was involved.”

  “I can’t marry that monster, Wyland. If she would become queen then—” I shook my head in disbelief, stopping myself before imagining such a future. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  Father always told me to display authority in front of my subjects. To never let them see me waver. Only my wife, my partner and confidant, would be allowed to share the burden of my doubts. I wanted Grace to hold that role. Sadly, she cannot.

  Now hear I am, succumbing to weakness and fear while begging a wizard that had been anointed less than a year for help. “Please. You must stop this wedding.”

  Wyland stared at me, unsure how to respond. His face then widened into a smile as if a glorious idea had entered his mind. “Blood rites aren’t spells. They can’t be reversed or broken.”

  It was a strange comment to make while looking so enthused, but Wyland elaborated while heading deeper into his study. “They can, however, be prevented.”

  The distinction puzzled me. “I don’t understand.”

  The wizard replied while scouring the woven baskets of magical totems scattered around the room. “Time magic is very difficult, unstable, and potentially catastrophic…but not impossible.”

  The enigmatic response only compounded my confusion. “Time magic?”

  Wyland’s hooded head emerged from one of the baskets. He held a small jar of red powder between his fingers, happily staring at the substance like it was some sort of intoxicant. “I’ve been saving this for an emergency.”

  “What is it?” I asked

  Wyland walked over to a bookshelf in the corner, his eyes still fixated on the glass in his hand. “Dehydrated dwarf liver. Very rare, considering most dwarves are reluctant to part with theirs. I traded a druid for it when I was still a magic student. Cost me nearly every gold coin I had.”

  Now I was less interested with what it was than what it was for? “What ever would you want with such a thing?”

  He removed a small scroll from atop the shelf and then tossed the jar upwards, shattering it against the stone ceiling. “We’re going to use it to turn back time and stop Lady Grace from running off to the dark forest.”

  I shielded my face from the falling glass as the red powder scattered to every corner of the room. It lingered in the air, slowly falling like bloody snow. Wyland was oblivious to it as he opened the scroll and began chanting in a strange, foreign language. An aura of green light manifested around him, extending out to cover the entire study.

  I watched anxiously, hoping Wyland’s spell would work…until something he had said struck me as odd. “Wait. How did you know Grace ran off and wasn’t abduc—”

  I was interrupted by a thunderous boom against the wall. Wyland didn’t stop, though. He kept on chanting, even as a large section of the stone wall started moving backwards. The green light throughout the room grew strong along with the volume of Wyland’s voice. The retracting wall was now removed completely, opening the study to the outside world. The Black Witch herself then emerged through the crude entrance she had created.

  A hooded ebony cloak covered her humped frame and she spoke with contempt upon seeing Wyland’s spell. “What do you think you’re doing, youngling?”

  The Black Witch reared her arm bank, a bolt of lightning forming in her hand. She prepared to throw it at Wyland when the green light encompassing the room suddenly roared with energy, exploding in a flash of light that blinded me completely.

  I barged into the wizard’s study without breaking my stride and spoke even before spotting him. “Wyland, I need your help.”

  The wizard looked up from an ancient tome he had his head buried in and squinted at the sight of me. “My king? What’s wrong? You look frazzled. Are you anxious about tomorrow’s nuptials? If you require a calming potion then I’m sure I could—”

  “It’s the Black Witch.”

  Wyland’s squinted eyes grew wide. He stared at me a moment before asking a question threw gritted teeth. “What does she have to do with this?”

  I opened my mouth to answer when the stone walls around the room started to rumble. Wyland reacted by chanting while making a series of hand gestures. He was casting a spell and appeared far less confused by the shaking walls than I.

  After a moment of rattling, the walls began to crumble into dust, exposing us to the moonlight. To my shock, the Black Witch entered through the opening she created and immediately threw a ball of fire at Wyland without saying a word. I expected the magical attack to strike him down, but the fireball struck an invisible shield around the chanting wizard and extinguished into steam.

  We were under attack, and although I knew I couldn’t match her in a battle of the supernatural, I had other means to combat the witch. She continued to launch fireballs at Wyland’s shield while I was drawn to a cabinet behind me and the silver sword I discovered inside. I couldn’t explain how I knew of its presence but was grateful all the same.

  I grabbed the blade by its handle and took a fighting stance. “You’ve invaded the wrong castle, witch!”

  “You fool!” She cursed at me. “If only you’d wait a moment we could—”

  I wasn’t going to give the hag a chance to deceive me with her tongue. I struck down with the sword straight for her head. The Black Witch lifted her feeble arm far quicker than I expected her to, catching the blade with one hand and freezing it to ice. I was in awe of her ability, and she capitalized on my shock by ripping the frozen weapon from my hands and hurling it at Wyland.

  I was unsure if his shield would be able to deflect something physical in nature, but before the sword reached him, the wizard abruptly shot his hands out, sending out a blinding green flash of light throughout the room.

  I barged into the wizard’s study without breaking my stride and spoke even before spotting him. “Wyland, I need your help.”

  The wizard looked up from an ancient tome he had his head buried in and squinted at the sight of me. “My king? What’s wrong? You look frazzled. Are you anxious about tomorrow’s nuptials? If you require a calming potion then I’m sure I could—”

  “It’s the Black Witch.”

  Wyland’s squinted eyes grew wide. He stared at me a moment before asking a question threw gritted teeth. “What does she have to do with this?”

  I never had the chance to think of an answer. As if planning her arrival for the perfect moment, the witch passed through the wall of the study like a spirit. I was stunned at her magical entrance. Wyland, however, was not.

  He wasted no time conjuring a spell, almost like he had been waiting to
use it. Several daggers of light manifested in front of him and shot straight towards the witch. She swirled her hands in a circular motion, generating a portal of darkness to engulf the daggers.

  As Wyland continued his spell to summon more weapons of light, I noticed another dark portal forming behind him. I stared into the blackness and saw a vision of the daggers emerging from within it. Where such a premonition came from I do not know, but I felt compelled to warn the wizard.

  “Wyland!” I shouted. “Behind you!”

  It was too late. The daggers soared through the portal and straight into Wyland’s back. He gasped in pain and stumbled forward onto his desk, a look of agony on his face.

  I took a step forward to help him but was interrupted by a wave of green light exploding out from Wyland’s body. The flash was as bright as the sun, and I failed to raise my arms fast enough to shield myself from being blinded.

  I went to barge into the wizard’s study when I was suddenly paralyzed in place. I couldn’t move. My joints were locked as if frozen mid-stride.

  This strange sorcery intensified when I felt myself pulled through the floor and into the dungeon below the castle. There I found the Black Witch standing before me, anticipating my arrival.

  “You!?” I bellowed in anger.

  Her grotesque, wart-ridden face snarled in frustration. “Shut your mouth.”

  I could barely hear her raspy voice under the howls of the prisoners locked in their cells. I couldn’t tell if the collection of drunkards and vagrants were wild because of my presence or the witch’s, but they behaved like animals.

  “All of you,” the witch commanded them. “Be quiet!”

  I was unaware if the witch had casted some kind of spell or merely demanded them to listen, but the prisoners obeyed by quietly sulking back to the corners of their cells.

  “You kings are all the same,” the Black Witch said, turning her attention back to me. “You think you can solve all the problems in the world by talking when sometimes all you need to do is listen.”

  It took every ounce of will I had not to lunge forward and attack the wench, but I was no fool. She had the advantage, and I had to keep her talking if I were to turn the tide in my favor. “You will pay for what you’ve done.”

  Buried within her dark hood, the witch’s sunken eyes shot upwards towards the ceiling I had magically just passed through. “You need to be more concerned with the wizard above us.”

  “Wyland? Why? I was just about—”

  She waved her hand to silence me as if I were nothing. “You weren’t just about to do anything because you’ve already done it. Many times before.”

  I clenched my fists, fighting back the impulse to strike. “I’m so sick of your lies.”

  “Then don’t trust me,” she said, removing her hood to reveal a grotesque visage underneath. “Trust yourself.”

  Again, the witch persisted with her riddles. “What are you talking about?”

  “Think,” she uttered with a soft, encouraging voice. “What do you remember of this day?”

  At first I resisted the urge to comply. I wasn’t about to give in to the witch’s schemes. But I couldn’t stop the flashes from entering my mind. They were brief and scattered, but as vivid as if I lived them only moments ago.

  My eyes drifted to the dungeon’s cold, wet floor as I relived the images in my head. “I arrived at the castle then…I told Wyland about Grace and…he suggested we go back in time…”

  The vibrant visions stunned me, and my glaze shot back to the witch. “What kind of trickery is this?”

  She slowly shook her head, denying my claim. “It’s not a trick.”

  “Then how do I remember something that never happened?”

  “It did happen,” she explained. “Those are memories buried deep within you of time that had been erased.”

  I looked back again and recalled our plan falling apart. “The time spell didn’t work, though. You interrupted it.”

  The Black Witch shook her head once more. “No. It worked perfectly. Just not the way you hoped.”

  The more she revealed the more I was lost. “What do you mean?”

  “Your wizard didn’t want to travel back in time. He wanted to create a time loop that allowed him to relive this moment over and over again until it reached the outcome he desired.”

  “Which is?” I asked, both curious and concerned as to what her answer might be.

  “Presumably my death,” replied the witch as plainly as possible.

  I couldn’t rule out the possibility that the Black Witch was trying to deceive me, but something about her tale seemed right. That no matter how hard I could deny it, the pieces of her puzzle fit together perfectly.

  Still, I had to remain skeptical and fill in the rest of the blanks. “How can you remember what happened so easily while my memories are suppressed?”

  The witch scoffed at my question. “It’s going to take more than some novice time incantation to manipulate my mind.”

  “But in my memories, it appeared as if Wyland didn’t remember casting the spell either. How could that be?”

  Something had attracted the witch’s focus. She began slowly looking around as if sensing a presence that I couldn’t.

  “He does,” she responded while scanning the dungeon walls for some unseen threat. “He’s just pretending not to manipulate you.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know and we don’t have much time to find out. It’s only a matter of moments until he wonders why you haven’t entered his study. I intercepted you before—”

  The thick metal entrance to the dungeon slammed shut, interrupting the witch and grabbing both of our attentions. It was Wyland. He stood on the other side of the long, dark passageway, his hands clasped in front of him. “Very clever, witch.”

  He left his position to approach us, his pristine robe sweeping across the grime of the dungeon floor. “Though I assumed you would find a way to get to him eventually.”

  “Wyland!” I roared. “Is what she says true? You’ve trapped us all in some sort of time loop?”

  He laughed at my question. “I was hoping to have avoided this conversation. Unfortunately, the Black Witch has proven to be more difficult to vanquish that I anticipated.”

  His lack of a denial only increased my suspicions.

  “That wasn’t the plan,” I protested. “We were going to go back and save Grace.”

  Wyland stopped his approach and again chuckled to himself, this time rocking his head back in a conceited cackle. “Oh, please. I never cared about that pretentious harlot and you shouldn’t either. She hated you and would do anything to get out of your wedding. She came to me for help, but it was all too easy to convince her to go see the Black Witch instead.”

  I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. The court wizard, appointed to the post by my very father, had orchestrated my betrothed’s demise.

  “You betrayed me?” I uttered, more out of disbelief than inquiry. “Why?”

  “To defeat her.” Wyland raised his robed arm to point a finger in the Black Witch’s direction. “For as long as anyone can remember, every court wizard has sought to rid this living plague from our kingdom, and every one of them has failed. But I won’t. You see, I knew if I could somehow lure her out of the dark forest and battled her on my own terms I could beat her in battle.”

  The witch snorted in what seemed to be some kind of wheezy laugh. “I see that’s been working well for you thus far.”

  “There have been some problems,” Wyland admitted, “but with every skirmish I grow closer to beating you.”

  Although I had flashes of memories in my head, the complete picture was lost on me. Wyland and the Black Witch spoke of each other as bitter rivals. To me, this still all seemed so new. It made me wonder a curious question. “How many times have we done this, Wyland?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, shaking his head. “I would be locked in this loop for eternity if it meant—�
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  “How many?!”

  He was quiet a moment and raised his chin to me, hiding his shame. “Seventy-six cycles.”

  Could it be possible? Had we truly replayed this moment seventy-six times? I’m the king. I’m supposed to be in control of those around me. Instead, I’m nothing more than a bystander, a prisoner locked in someone else’s story.

  “End this now,” I commanded the wizard.

  “No” Wyland replied. “Not until she’s dead.”

  I restrained my anger to a subtle scowl. “I order you as your king.”

  Wyland’s shoulders bounced as he mocked me with laughter. “You think I care? Your father was a real king. You’re just some weak brat unable to keep his own wedding from falling apart. Once I kill the terrible Black Witch everyone will see my power for what it truly is and it is I who will wear the crown.”

  I clenched a fist at my side, grinding the armor covering my hand. “You traitorous swine.”

  Wyland lifted his hand and a green aura steadily circled around him. “Go ahead. Call me what you wish. Because the truth remains that none of this ever happened.”

  The green light suddenly exploded throughout the dungeon. It shot out in every direction, and I was so focused on its approach I failed to notice the Black Witch had slipped beside me. She was soft, quiet, and placed a long, scraggly finger against the side of my temple just as the wave of light completely engulfed my being.

  I barged into the wizard’s study without breaking my stride and spoke even before spotting him.”Wyland, I need your help.”

  The wizard looked up from an ancient tome he had his head buried in and squinted at the sight of me. “My king? What’s wrong? You look frazzled. Are you anxious about tomorrow’s nuptials? If you require a calming potion then I’m sure I could—”

  “It’s the Black Witch.”

  Wyland’s squinted eyes grew wide. He stared at me a moment before asking a question threw gritted teeth. “What does she have to do with this?”

  “Grace is dead.” I left my position by the door to approach the wizard with steadfast steps of conviction. “The witch transformed my beautiful fiancé into a dragon and compelled me to slay her.”