Apprentice

by Nicholas Hale

  "The Summoner," said Illazehra.

  "I don't see him," said Gale.

  He clutched his sword tightly as the creatures began circling them. A red circle began glowing under their feet. Gale made to instinctively move away from it before he heard Illazehra's voice.

  "No. Stay inside the circle. I'm not adept at protective magic, but this should help us. It hurts creatures that do not belong to this plane. I had been preparing to use it if we ever encountered the Summoner."

  "Does it kill them?" asked Ceívar.

  "I'm afraid not. It just gives us an advantage, but we still need to do the job ourselves. They're not as strong as they look."

  "How do we kill them?" asked Gale. Before anyone could answer, all four creatures charged in at once toward them.

  Gale held his sword with both hands readying a strike. One of them seemed to have chosen him as its prey. The boy he had just killed. Gale saw sparks explode around the creature as it landed in the red circle.

  It startled Gale for a moment, but there was no time to waste. He swung his sword at the creature maintaining his distance. The creature moved back quickly. It lunged for him with it maw open. Gale saw razor-sharp teeth dripping with green saliva. He managed to bring back the blade in time to put it between him and the creature. That didn't deter it, however.

  It bit down on the blade and shook its head vigorously. Gale held on to the blade as hard as he could, but the creature was immensely strong. The bolt in his shoulder twisted and the pain was unbearable.

  He couldn't let the blade go. He would die in an instant if he did.

  The creature snarled and moved forward. Gale felt its face close to his. He saw black eyes staring at him. It stared into his eyes and growled. It jerked its head back violently and the sword was pulled out of his hand and flung aside. Gale saw blood dripping from its mouth. He brought out the dagger with his good hand and held it to his side as the creature swiped at him. It met the large creature's paw head-on and dug into its flesh. The creature howled in pain.

  Whatever Illazehra's spell was, it was at least disorienting the creatures.

  Gale twisted his dagger, opening the wound, and pulled it back with as much force as his wounded shoulder permitted. It was enough to rip through the paw.

  The creature, however, struck with its good arm sending Gale to the floor. He was sure his shoulder was broken. He felt warm breath on his face as he looked up to see the creature's open maw. It was wide open like a bear trap, ready to snap shut at any moment.

  Gale readied his dagger. He would have only one chance.

  He wasn't going to die screaming like Garvin's men. He was about to shove the dagger into the creature's open mouth when the space there was filled with a small ball of fire. The ball increased in size and exploded. Gale shut his eyes, avoiding the flash. He opened them moments later to see the creature's headless body in front of him.

  "I should be thankful you're here with us today," said Ceívar.

  Gale got to his feet and looked at Illazehra and Ceívar. They somehow seemed to have dispatched the other creatures. Ceívar was covered in blood, but his silver blade, incredibly, was spotless. Illazehra looked tired. Her eyes were drooping and she seemed to be drenched in sweat.

  "We were lucky. These are not powerful demons."

  "The assassins…became the demons?" asked Gale, confused.

  "Summoning requires a sacrifice of essence, either the Summoner's own or…as in this case, willing fools. The runes on their body mean they submitted themselves to the process. To the summoner. Looks like the assassins weren't that strong to begin with, so their essence could only summon these creatures."

  They were not done yet. He remembered the golden arc killing Ceívar's man and looked around. The man had been slashed at the front, which meant the caster would have to be...

  There! Gale saw him. The man was cloaked in some invisibility spell. He saw the air shimmering near the doorway.

  "Look out! By the door!" yelled Gale, pointing towards the invisible caster.

  A bright red star flew at them like a comet. It was aimed at Illazehra. Gale couldn't move even if he wanted to. Ceívar stepped in between the star and Illazehra.

  Gale recoiled, expecting an explosion, but instead he saw that Ceívar strike it with his Rapier. The blade was glowing a bright silver and somehow...he was holding the star off. It seemed to be pushing against him, but Ceívar was holding his blade steady with both his hands now. It seemed both the star and Ceívar were refusing to give ground.

  With a flourish, he twisted the blade and swung it to his side. The star was flung aside and flew towards the wall, striking it and exploding in bright-red light. They could see their enemy now. He was dressed in a black cowl.

  "Well, well, a spell breaker. I didn't expect to see a Raven so well prepared. The only one I expected trouble from was the mage."

  His voice was a rough rasp. It sounded as if he had brambles in his throat.

  Both Ceívar and Illazehra were looking at him warily.

  "What do you want with us?" asked Illazehra. "Is it your egg? Because we don't have it."

  "My egg? Hardly. It belongs to my master. And we're tired of waiting for it."

  Master? What the hell was going on? There was more than one Summoner now?

  "I didn't think they would even need to be transformed at all. Had the crossbow bolt struck true, my work here would have been done."

  The man had walked forward and was inspecting one of the carcasses. Ceívar rushed towards him, while Illazehra began another spell. The Summoner brought up his hand just in time and it seemed Ceívar's blade struck some sort of barrier.

  A single spire of lightning starting from Illazehra's hand struck the barrier and the man behind it keeled.

  "Fools! I would have considered letting you live! All I wanted was the mage."

  "You're the foolish one here," said Ceívar, pushing against the invisible barrier with his sword. "The question you should be asking is if we'll let you live."

  He seemed to be inching closer to the Summoner, pushing against the barrier.

  The barrier exploded outward in a shockwave. Gale was knocked off his feet and landed into a seat filled with cushions. Ceívar too was blown back, but rolled like a cat and landed on his feet, his sword ready for a second strike.

  The ground began quaking as the Summoner cast his next spell. The ground beneath him was covered in dark purple runes. A large circle formed, covering the entire floor. Illazehra let loose a few more spells, but they seemed to do little good. The Summoner seemed to be protected by another barrier of sorts. Gale wished he could help, but his shoulder was entirely numb. And the adrenaline had worn off, letting his body know the full extent of the damage the bolt had caused.

  The Summoner's spell seemed to have been completed. Patches of the ground beneath them began glowing. The patches looked like blood. They formed a dark-red pool in front of the Summoner's feet. Without a word, the Summoner turned and began to walk away. Ceívar ran toward him.

  He stopped in his tracks when they heard a resonating growl fill the room. The growls from the wolf creatures were nothing compared to this one. This one was deep. And it seemed to come from all around them at once. Two large claws appeared from the red pool onto the wooden floor of the brothel.

  The ground shook as the creature pulled itself out from inside the pool. It looked like a bear, but was twice the size of the largest bear that Gale had ever seen. And it had a single eye in the center of its head.

  "Get back! Don't go near it!" yelled Illazehra.

  Ceívar moved away from it.

  Gale forced himself to stand up and almost lost his balance. The ground continued shaking.

  The bear-like demon was completely out of the circle and began moving toward them. Illazehra appeared to be chanting a spell. The ground shook again.

  It was then that Gale realized that the tremors were not caused by the demon. They were centered on Illazehra. Ceívar, too,
seemed to have realized this.

  "What the hell are you doing?" yelled Ceívar.

  "I'm doing what I must!" screamed Illazehra over the noise of growling demon.

  The growls seemed to be getting louder as the creature approached them. However, they were eclipsed by the beginning of a rumbling sound. The tremors he had felt when Illazehra first started casting had grown into a series of rapid quakes.

  "You'll bring the place down, you maniac!" said Ceívar heading towards her.

  "It's an Ursvang, you dumb bastard! Not rabble like the ones we faced before. I know what I'm doing and it's our only chance to survive!"

  Ceívar was about to grab Illazehra's hand before Gale got in between them.

  "We have no time for this. Look at that thing," said Gale.

  The creature seemed to be slowly lumbering toward them from the other end of the room.

  "I don't think our weapons can hurt it," said Gale. "At least mine won't," he added, looking at Ceívar's silver sword. What the hell was it made of?

  "Well, at least it's slow," said Ceívar, turning to look at it.

  As if to correct his assumption, the Ursvang roared. A blur. The next instant, the Ursvang was standing right above the two men.

  "What the—"

  Before Ceívar could complete his sentence, the Ursvang raised its arm and swung. Gale could not see the swipe. It was impossibly fast. All he could see were five streaks of silver trailing the creature's claw as if it had cut the air itself.

  Ceívar had surprised him today with his abilities. The assassins. The wolf-like demons. And then he stopped a spell from the Summoner.

  But there would be no surprises here. Gale knew that the moment he saw the creature's claw come down. Ceívar disappeared. Gale heard a crash to his right and saw that the wall had broken. Ceívar's limp body lay among the debris caused by the crash.

  This was not good. Gale was already wounded. The creature started moving towards him. Gale braced himself for the strike as the creature raised its hand yet again. He held up his sword, for all the good it would do.

  There was a loud crack behind him. Gale suddenly went deaf.

  He couldn't hear anything as the entire building began shaking violently. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. Fortunately it seemed even the Ursvang was unable to maintain balance as it shifted its large body, trying to stay up.

  Before Gale could regain balance, a large portion of the floor beneath the Ursvang collapsed, sucking the creature into the ground. The hole rapidly expanded, covering almost the entire floor of the tavern sucking in all the furniture and corpses that lay about.

  It stopped expanding right in front of Gale's feet. He shuffled back in a hurry to avoid falling into the chasm. He peered into the hole and could only see blackness. He heard a loud growl. The damned Ursvang was still there. He heard the growl again. This time much louder than before.

  He recollected the speed at which it moved when it attacked Ceívar. At first he thought it was teleportation, but as he played the short battle out in his mind, details became clearer. There was a blur trailing its body as it had moved toward them. Hopefully, it wouldn't be able to climb out of the black pit.

  He turned around saw Illazehra about to faint. He reached out and caught her before she hit the ground. Gale felt another tremor as he eased her to the ground. This time, bits of rubble from the ceiling started falling down.

  This wasn't good. Illazehra had collapsed to exhaustion. Gale knew it was her spell that did this as he felt the tremors intensify. He looked around and saw Ceívar struggling to get to his feet. He wondered if the man was even human to be alive after a blow like that. They couldn't stay here. The whole building would collapse in a few minutes.

  Gale stopped to think.

  This would be the perfect opportunity for him to escape. Things had obviously gotten out of hand. There was more than one Summoner they were facing. More than one irrational madman. If the building did collapse, which seemed very likely, then the Ravens would assume that Gale too had died in this attack along with Illazehra and Ceívar. It would be quite easy for him to disappear and leave this mess behind.

  He looked at Illazehra and Ceívar once again. He took a deep breath. He reached down and lifted Illazehra. She seemed light and frail. He found it hard to imagine she caused the entire building to collapse. He swung her over his shoulder and winced. The bolt was still stuck inside his shoulder and the other shoulder was almost broken.

  He walked toward Ceívar next, carefully avoiding the edges of the hole. He had no desire to fall into the chasm with the Ursvang still at the bottom. He reached Ceívar and found that the man was already on his knees gasping for breath. He saw a large wound on the man's head.

  "All right. Get up!" he said, grabbing hold of Ceívar's shoulder. He didn't have the strength to carry a man as large as Ceívar even if his shoulder wasn't broken.

  Ceívar was huddled on the floor, but he seemed to be chanting something. He didn't know what Ceívar was doing, but it was generating warmth.

  "We don't have time for this. The whole building—"

  "They told me you were yellow," said Ceívar.

  Gale could see his face as the man lifted his head and looked at him. It was bad. One side of it seemed to be crushed. It was covered in blood.

  "I was sure you'd run. And that I'd have to hunt you down after I was healed," he said, laughing.

  All the more reason to let you die, thought Gale.

  The laughter turned into a gurgle and he started coughing uncontrollably. Blood poured out of his mouth.

  "Well...both us would have to be alive for that. Which we won't be if we stay here. Let's go now. Get up."

  Gale knelt to provide Ceívar support. It hurt him to bear both the large man's weight and Illazehra's. But fortunately, they were close enough to the exit. Gale trudged along and made his way through the exit into the night. There was a crowd gathering outside.

  He heard one last roar before he felt the building start to crumble behind him.

  Chapter 48

  "You are fortunate to be alive."

  Lorian knew the demon was gazing into his thoughts even before it spoke to him.

  He was sitting on the floor of the library visualizing his most recent bout in the arena before the Azhurai interrupted his thoughts. His head was already hurting from the strain of excessive spellcasting and he didn't want to strain himself further dealing with the demon's intrusion.

  Despite the pain, one part of him felt he should be thanking Amadeus. Ever since Thaugmir found him, he had been treated like a prodigy. By his masters and by his peers. None of them had ever really pushed him to his limits.

  He knew that now.

  Earlier, when he felt he'd exhausted his mental capacity for magic, he always felt an emptiness. He would try and reach for the planes, but they would simply be too far away. Most mages felt physical exhaustion and severe strain on the mind. Migraines. Thoughts in disarray. Incoherent ramblings.

  He thought he was different for not feeling it but Amadeus had shown him that he wasn't. He had just never been pushed far enough to feel those effects. He raised one hand and looked at his bloodied knuckles.

  "You would be mistaken in thinking he pushes you to see you grow. He does this from selfishness. And a madness born of eight hundred years of solitude. He is single minded in his pursuit of the mastery of essences."

  "He did give me this library..."

  "Again, you show your naiveté. What use is all the knowledge in the planes if you die in his arena? The reason he lets you grow is only to better test his own creations against you. Your latent strength does not interest him. He has seen many mages and fought in far too many battles to be impressed by your displays in his arena."

  That stung him. Lorian was genuinely learning through his battles in the arena. He just had his seventh battle and was recuperating in the training room.

  "What do you mean when you say that I was fortunate?"

>   "Your battle with the Racenarr."

  The Racenarr. So, it had a name. Lorian felt shivers run through his body. He didn't know if it was fear or the excitement of having survived the battle or the fear of nearly dying.

  The creature looked like a large mantid insect. But it was a creature built purely for battle. Its large wings were thin but as hard as metal. The creature used them like shields. Besides the four insect-like legs attached to its lower abdomen, it appeared to have four appendages it used as weapons. The two near its thorax ended in daggers that it fought with at close range. While its two longer appendages were like deadly curved long swords.

  It had broken through his defensive shields in a single strike and had nearly gutted him. It moved faster than any other creature he had seen. His spells did very little to break through its wings.

  A month ago, Lorian would have panicked, but he had gotten used to the arena. Add to that, the glorious library that Amadeus had given him for perusal. He found variations of elemental spells that he had only dreamed were possible. He had barely scratched the surface, but he had already increased his repertoire of spells. He had significantly altered his casting style and the combination of spells he used.

  Amadeus might have shown him the limits of his stamina, but there was still something Lorian had that he knew was unique. Speed. Raw elemental spells were powerful, and Lorian was certainly faster with them than other mages, but elemental spells in general had one drawback. To make your spell stronger, you had to reach deep into the elemental planes to pull out the purest form of the element. And this took time. Thus, most mages made a reasonable compromise between the strength of the spell and the speed at which they needed to cast it.

  In the formative years of magical research, several mages understood that you could draw the powers of the elements around you in the mortal plane in the same way you could planar elemental magic. This was fast, but the drawback was that elements in the mortal plane were substantially lacking in strength when compared to the same element drawn directly from the elemental planes. These classes of spells were termed as manipulation spells to distinguish them from true elemental magic.