Apprentice

by Nicholas Hale

  "It troubles you?" asked Orcus, perhaps reading his face.

  "Of course it does!"

  "You seemed more accepting of Mog'rath's power back in the master's plane."

  That was true. But then, it was hard not to be impressed. Especially when that was Mog'rath at his most weakened state.

  "Regardless, I'm not sure how I feel having Mog'rath inside me. I've already hurt one person close to me."

  "Hurt? I would go as far as saying you saved them both. Twice."

  "I doubt Master Gawain would have lost back there," said Lorian, laughing. He regretted it almost immediately, as he felt dizzy. The wound on his back seemed extremely sensitive to his flesh moving even the slightest.

  The hamster, however, didn't think that was funny.

  "You really seem to underestimate the master. While I can't prove to you in any certain way what the outcome would have been, I can tell you with complete confidence that there were several creatures that he still had in the towers that he hadn't used. Not to mention several greater spells he was still capable of casting. He hadn't even cast one of them."

  Greater spells. Spells that were often unique to, and the pinnacle of, a school of magic. Lorian would have counted summoning Irith'arcana as a greater spell, but Orcus seemed to think that didn't count.

  "Has he ever cast them before? In your presence, I mean," asked Lorian out of curiosity.

  "A few times. But never in combat. It was mostly part of his research to improve them. For some reason I don't think I can show them to you. I can't recall them entirely," said Orcus as his tiny face scrunched up in concentration.

  "But you've made your point. Amadeus might possibly have defeated Master Gawain if I hadn't transformed. It still doesn't change the fact that I hurt Master Gawain. And I don't know how many more people I could end up hurting."

  The hamster looked thoughtful for a while before speaking.

  "Firstly, you're not harboring Mog'rath inside your body in the traditional sense. This isn't what mortals call possession. In such a state, the demon would be able to overpower the will of the host over time and take control of his body entirely. Most often, the host body isn't strong enough to support the demon in its true form. In your case, it's a joining of essences. So, unless you feed Mog'rath massive amounts of powerful essences, such as that of a god, I don't see him taking over your body entirely."

  "I'm hoping that's true," said Lorian, seeing where the hamster was going.

  "Until we see evidence to the contrary, I would say that's a safe assumption to make."

  Lorian nodded.

  "Secondly, your fear of hurting those around you is justified. Even if Mog'rath doesn't take over your body entirely, he can still influence your behavior. Certain spells you cast might be harmful to those around you. But that's one of the simpler choices you need to make. In the end, it boils down to how much you desire the power Mog'rath's essence offers you. This leads me to the question, why do you desire power?"

  That he wanted power was apparent. Why? That was a harder question.

  "When Master Thaugmir first found me, I was a starving street urchin in a village decimated by the demon war. My presence was barely tolerated. A forgotten village of a broken kingdom, raids by bandits and the sort was often common. It was only a miracle I wasn't taken away much earlier. I despised them. The bandits, the slave traders. Sometimes even soldiers from the northern free cities would resort to such measures. But I was powerless to do anything about it."

  "If it's any source of comfort to you," Orcus said without any pity, "oppression exists in almost every plane, even some of the higher planes, and more so in the lower ones. I would go far enough to say that your plane is even fortunate."

  "I'm not fishing for pity!" said Lorian angrily.

  "And I'm not offering it. I'm just stating a very basic truth in most planes of existence. The fundamental goal of life in those planes is a quest for power. To avoid oppression and to oppress. It isn't something unique to the mortal plane."

  It surprised Lorian that the hamster could be so coldly rational, but he had to admit it was a truth he often forgot. Not to mention, Orcus was only in the body of a hamster, but his true form was that of another extra-planar creature.

  "What do you wish to do with power, should you acquire it?" asked Orcus.

  "It's not so much a desire for power that drives me. You interrupted me before I could say it. Magic was the only thing I was ever good at. Being much better than my fellow apprentices at the Shadow Spire made me happy. It drove me to aspire for greater heights. Part of my early education also included tales about great mages and magical battles, the feats that they'd accomplished. I found that these mages were respected not just in the tower, but throughout the known lands."

  "You wish to be one such mage?"

  "Well, that's one of the things I'd like. Power has its own conveniences."

  "Like killing city guards with impunity when you see them mistreating slaves?"

  "How in the world do you know about that?"

  "There were several mages who came to look at you while you were unconscious. I overheard them speaking."

  "Hmm. But yes. I do like the freedom of being able to deal with such things as it suits me."

  "The question then is—does your regard for those around you outweigh your desire for power? That seems an easy enough question to answer."

  "I doubt it does," answered Lorian immediately. He had his own morals but knew they were secondary to his desire for greatness.

  "If so, Mog'rath's essence offers significant advantages."

  If Lorian could find a way to exploit the essence in the first place.

  "The most important thing to keep in mind," said Orcus, "is that half your own essence has been destroyed. Nothing we spoke about even warrants further discussion if we assume that you would be dead without Mog'rath's essence compensating for yours."

  That was the crux of it.

  He needed Mog'rath's essence to survive more than anything else. Even his own quest for power depended his survival. Amadeus had destroyed a good portion of his essence, using it as bait for the godling. This was something he had come to terms with even before he agreed to heal himself using Mog'rath's essence.

  "This was a decision you made in Amadeus's castle. To question it now is—"

  "Pointless," completed Lorian.

  Doubting that decision and longing for an alternate future was foolish.

  "You should get back to sleep. I hear someone coming. It seems there are some mages here who want to speak to you."

  "Probably a good idea."

  Lorian wasn't quite ready to talk to anyone yet.

  *

  "So, am I going to have to see you every time I go to sleep?" asked Lorian as he picked up one of the stones on the ground to get a closer look at it. The composition of this place was still confusing him.

  "Does that prospect upset you?" asked Mog'rath.

  The demon was sitting on a large chair carved out of stone. It seemed a makeshift throne, thought Lorian as he looked around.

  "Is this what your...plane looks like?" asked Lorian, ignoring the question.

  For some reason it seemed harder to hold on to a train of thought in his current state.

  "One of my planes. I rule over several. It was a place much like this where the Sitri assembled when I called."

  "This is the second time I'm hearing that name. What is the Sitri?"

  "Something you needn't know of. Yet."

  "Why am I here?" asked Lorian, looking around the cave. Most of it was bare, except for some sconces on the walls holding torches that gave off light—just enough to see each other, without being too bright.

  "We share a body now, don't we? I thought we should get to know each other, as you mortals would say."

  Lorian had to raise his eyebrows. There was some sarcasm in the voice, and the demon was still grinning. That a grin could be so utterly terrifying still amazed Lorian. There was some
thing else going on here. Before Lorian could ask, the demon spoke.

  "I am trapped inside you the same way you were when I harvested the godling's essence. I share your emotions as well. When I first took over your body, I expected you to feel horror and revulsion. Yet, I must say I was surprised to detect...a hint of pleasure in you."

  "I felt nothing like that."

  "Even had we not shared a body, discerning a lie from a mortal's tongue would be a trivial task for any demon, let alone an arch-demon. If you do not wish to answer, you can merely say so and save yourself the trouble of inventing a lie. It pains me to see your feeble mind struggle and fail at the attempt..."

  "You were fighting Amadeus. A man equal to, or perhaps greater in strength than Gawain, who is one of the greatest mages in all the known lands."

  "I see. But what I fail to understand is this—it was I who was battling the mage. I cannot fathom your deriving pleasure from such a victory. I could read your mind during your battles in our captor's arena. And although there are several mortals who would falsely claim another's accomplishments, you never struck me as being among them."

  That was true. Lorian detested such actions. Winning by chance, or winning because of another's intervention. He would rather lose than win like that. Yet when Mog'rath was battling Amadeus...

  "Could it be that you have already accepted the two of us as one?"

  He had been thinking about it when he lay on the sky-floor of Amadeus's plane, looking at the destruction that Mog'rath had wrought. Even though they shared the body, they were still two different creatures. Taking credit for that destruction for himself, would be...a lie.

  Yet, as he recalled the feeling, it felt familiar to him. It was the same feeling he had as he walked back to Norvind with Master Gawain. The promise of power. That was what had exhilarated him. This demon was trapped inside his body, and represented a well of untapped power. He had already unlocked some of its abilities, foremost among them, his ability to chain his spells together. He was thrilled at the power it gave him. But the time Mog'rath had taken over, he had been shown first hand, the true potential of the essence inside him.

  Mog'rath laughed, as Lorian knew he would.

  "I did not need to read your mind mortal. I see it in your face. Hunger is something demons are all too familiar with. You seek the power that my essence offers, for yourself."

  "Yes," said Lorian. There was no point in lying to the demon.

  "You should know this. The time will come, when I will find a way to amass enough essence to suppress yours entirely."

  Lorian knew what that meant. He wouldn't be consumed, but he would be reduced to the position that Mog'rath was in. Perhaps even lower. Locked in some internal plane such as this cave, with no hope of escape. But that was a risk he had willingly undertaken when he first agreed to the infusion process.

  It was the same risk he had instinctively accepted when he first trapped the godling within himself. He smiled as he recollected that incident. What had he hoped to achieve by doing that? To gain some understanding of the Lumen? Perhaps speed up the process of learning it so that he could effectively use it in battle.

  But something had been happening all along that had pushed him into a corner. Mastery of the Lumen was too slow, and from what everyone had told him, it was more a matter of time and not effort. So, he would have to wait a thousand years, like Gawain had, to be as proficient as him with the Lumen, regardless of how much raw talent he had, or how much effort he put in. That made it more akin to priestly magic than that of a mage.

  Serve and you shall receive. The words brought bile into his mouth.

  And the last and final straw had been Amadeus. The man was despicable, and Lorian had hated him for all the pain he had caused him. But the necromancer had taught him a valuable lesson. He showed him that the Lumen was not the strongest magic in existence. That there were other forms of magic that could compare in strength to it.

  Lorian brought up his hands and looked at them. This entire incident had ended with him gaining much more than he had lost. Roughly half of his own mortal essence was replaced with the essence of an arch-demon, which offered much more than his mortal essence would. The price of such power was the risk of losing his body to Mog'rath. And he was fine with that.

  "It is rare indeed to see a mortal with such thirst for power," said Mog'rath. "This is reason I called you here. We are not bound together by some accident or quirk of fate. We chose this. Your unique essence offers you many gifts. Accept them. Learn to use them."

  "You wish me to succeed?" asked Lorian.

  "Creatures, especially mortals, on your path meet untimely ends. Sometimes because of misplaced notions of morality, self-doubt and half-heartedness, but more often because they tend to threaten a delicate balance."

  "A delicate balance? What are you talking about?"

  "The order. Forces of power in the mortal planes always maintain a balance against each other. And they fear anything that greatly upsets this balance. Your companions, the mages of Norvind, are one such power. You will see the true meaning in my words."

  They sat in silence after that.

  "I only wish you to be alive long enough for me to overcome you," said the demon.

  "And I, you," answered Lorian in kind.

  Chapter 58

  "Do all humans have such reckless disregard for their safety? Or is it just you? The demonic corruption that took root in your wound was meant for creatures that are physically much stronger than you. Demons. You've seen the limits of their constitution with your own eyes."

  Orcus didn't need to tell him that. Lorian recalled how Mog'rath was unfazed by Amadeus's most powerful spells. And the two lesser demons enduring the black breath of Irith'arcana.

  "Stop bothering me. I had a hard enough time getting out of the mage tower with that damned girl asking me a hundred questions. I'm sure she's run off to tell Rhaen, so I don't have much time."

  The mage tower was bustling with visitors—apparently a lot of them were mages at Norvind. He had been truly surprised to see Nader the mauler among them. He hadn't even known that the renowned battle mage was of Norvind. Lorian had heard stories of his deeds in the battle against Naxannor. He was not as famous as Master Gawain, but the man was a rising star of sorts in the world of magic. He was a hero to many apprentices in the Shadow Spire. A few months earlier, Lorian would have been thrilled to meet the man and discuss spells or tactics with him. Right now, though, he found him a hindrance along with the rest of the visitors who had made the mage tower very noisy.

  "The primary goal of the corruption is not to kill you but to weaken you. The more you strain yourself, the more the corruption spreads. Death comes not from the corruption itself, but the natural causes that follow such debilitating weakness to your body. Your body would not be able to withstand the flow of magic through it."

  Orcus seemed to have correctly guessed Lorian's intentions. He too doubted his judgment in casting magic so quickly, but he simply had to ascertain a few things.

  "This isn't a strenuous spell, really. In fact, the core tenet of this spell is to let as little magic flow into your body as possible," said Lorian.

  He never dreamed that he would be explaining magic to a hamster, but he had recently gained immense respect for the creature's intelligence. The illusion it had cast to scare off the lesser Azhurai had been perfect in timing, subject, and target. The hamster had chosen the single creature that the demon had feared more than anything else in all the planes, at the most critical time.

  "It's called the spellsong. It's a spell we cast to ascertain our connection to the magical planes."

  He sat cross-legged on the floor of the barracks as he cast the spell. The hamster although annoyed with him, had been curious enough to watch it from his shoulders.

  The first step had been to empty his mind and enter a meditative trance.

  The second was to open every channel of magic he could simultaneously. Fragments of the eleme
nts began to flow into him in minute quantities. He focused and released them into small spheres in front of him. When he opened his eyes, he could see four spheres the size of his fist floating in front of him. Fire, air, ice and lightning. There were many other smaller multicolored spheres that represented other forms of magic he knew. There was also a tiny gold sphere as well, which represented the Lumen.

  "I see that the ball of fire is the largest among them," said Orcus.

  Lorian had hoped that wouldn't happen. He saw the sphere of fire burn more violently and larger than the others. It meant that his connection to the plane of fire had grown much stronger than the others. He had always been proud of the fact that all his elemental spheres had been the same size and intensity.

  "You're looking for any new forms of magic you might have access to?"

  "Not really. The spellsong only shows me spells I've already cast. Moreover, I need to be able to cast the spells at will. I won't see demonic spells here because…well…they're not really planar. They're from inside me."

  Orcus was keenly observing all the tiny spheres floating around.

  "At this point, I'm just checking to see if I still have all my spells. Or if I've lost any of them due to the recent...changes in my body."

  The tiny golden sphere representing the Lumen was but a fleck. Mog'rath's essence had cut him off entirely from the Lumen. His transformation inside Amadeus's plane had been possibly only because the fragment had been trapped before he fused with Mog'rath. Even without trying it, he could feel that the Lumen would actively fight any effort by him to draw it into his body.

  It was an exceedingly difficult task as it was, and far more complicated by the fact that he had demonic essence inside him.

  Lorian stopped casting. And as he had expected, the spells continued to persist due to his new chaining ability. It was important for him to know the time for which the spells would continue flowing.

  One by one, each sphere died out.

  The flame was the last to be extinguished, long after the other spells had disappeared. So, it seemed his ability to chain was applicable to all his spells. And the final skill that he had learned. His inner well organ. It now contained minute traces of all the spells that he had cast.