Apprentice

by Nicholas Hale

  Stupid voice. Of course, Riven would stay away from him.

  But it was good that he was powerful. This meant the idiot thieves could at least buy him some time while they fought.

  The door closed. Riven contemplated following behind them, but it would be too much of a pain. It was better to go in from the front. Darius's thieves inside would start making their way to the basement as soon as they became aware of the assault.

  Making his way to the main guild-hall, Riven stopped in an alleyway across the entrance. There was no real need to hide. He unsheathed his knife and began poking the top of a trashcan while he waited quietly for the assault to begin.

  There would be sounds when it began. Lots of sounds.

  *

  "I feel like I've met you before," said the man who called himself Crassus.

  "I don't think that's possible. I'm not from Archon," said Lorian.

  "Neither am I. Your look and manner mark you a Rygan, though… Did you fight in the demon war?"

  "Eh? I wasn't even born then."

  "Perhaps you could tell me when you were born?"

  "Don't remember," said Lorian, getting annoyed with man's line of questioning. "It was a long time ago. Does it really matter?"

  "Oh, I didn't mean to intrude. I was merely curious. My apologies."

  My foot, thought Lorian. The man had been staring at Lorian and Lorian alone since the moment he first saw him. The only reason Lorian even noticed him was that he'd seen the man staring at him.

  "You need to watch out for that man," whispered Orcus into his ear.

  The hamster had climbed onto his shoulder.

  Lorian nodded. Demon hunter. Lorian was sure the man would know nothing of Mog'rath. He didn't even know what an Azhurai was. When some of the thieves were discussing that it was Naxannor's blood that caused debilitating wounds and that they might need to watch out for weapons coated with it, Lorian suggested that several demons such as lesser Azhurai were capable of inflicting such wounds.

  They looked to the demon hunter for confirmation and the man merely shrugged. "Never heard of 'em," he'd said. Even Vail back in Norvind knew more about demons than his man.

  But that wasn't to say the demon hunter was an idiot.

  A lot of things he spoke about made sense. Such as battle tactics. He seemed to know a lot about killing demons, but not too much about demons themselves. At least the ones Lorian was interested in.

  He would have liked to know more about the biology of an Azhurai. The demon hunter probably sensed demonic essence emanating from him. Perhaps he even suspected Lorian of being a demon spawn.

  If so, he'd better be careful. Once the battle was done, or even during it, the hunter might just stick a blade in his back.

  "I need you to keep an eye out for him," whispered Lorian to Orcus. "If he's anywhere near us, behind me, or starts eyeing me funny, I want to know."

  Orcus had beyond excellent hearing, so Lorian only needed to barely intone the words for the message to be conveyed.

  "Understood," said Orcus, climbing back into Lorian's robes.

  Gale had mentioned that it would only take a few minutes to get to the basement of the guild-hall, but they'd been walking down the tunnel for a while now.

  One contingent of about a dozen thieves had gone ahead first. These were apparently the best assassins Renal had. They would try and silently dispatch as many enemies as possible before the alarm was raised. Gale said it wouldn't take that long for the attack to be discovered.

  When it was discovered, then the assassins would signal the second wave of attackers.

  This one would consist of three of the mages. Their primary duty would be to simply start 'blasting away' as soon as they emerged from the basement, as Marcus had put it. The goal of this attack would be to provide cover for the third wave of attackers, which would consist of the two remaining mages, Renal, Gale, the demon hunter Crassus and some other lieutenants.

  Lorian didn't like having the demon hunter enter behind him, but it just meant he would need to be cautious. After the third wave entered, the remaining thieves would enter in pairs from other tunnels and entrances.

  The three mages chosen to go in the second wave were Lorian and the two mercenary mages, whose names Lorian hadn't bothered asking. They looked far weaker than Lorian had anticipated. One of them seemed like a rank amateur.

  Was this honestly the best that the Black Ravens could do? And they had even stuck Lorian in with them. He hoped they wouldn't get in his way.

  Even though he was paired up with two buffoons, Lorian had to admit this was fun. This was what he had trained all his life for. He was a battle mage, not an academic. Thellis had shown him that he had a warrior's thirst for battle and blood.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the Ravens thought he was weak. That could be their only reason for sending him in the second wave. He felt excitement creep into his body when they would finally see what he was capable of.

  "Breathe," said a voice in his ear.

  Gale. The female mage's bodyguard. The man was smiling at Lorian.

  "Eager for battle, I see?"

  Lorian nodded, a little embarrassed. Gale laughed, patting Lorian on the back. Gently, thank the heavens, thought Lorian. His back was fully healed, but it still felt like there was a phantom wound there, causing him to wince whenever someone touched it. Orcus had told him it was normal for demonic wounds.

  They were right underneath the entrance.

  "All right," said one of the lieutenants. "The first wave has just gone ahead. The three of you, stay at the ready. You're going up as soon as the signal is given."

  "I hope you're not thinking of 'blasting away' as that idiot suggested..." said Orcus.

  Lorian smiled. It was an interesting plan. Perhaps one that he would have gladly carried out at an earlier time. But his past battles had taught him much.

  "Now!" came a shout from above them as the trapdoor swung open.

  Lorian bit his tongue, sending a jolt of pain through his body, starting in his mouth and ending on his shoulders. In moments, his demonic wings sprouted on his back.

  He had gotten used to the pain by now.

  He heard gasps of surprise from behind him as soon as the wings appeared. Lorian would have liked to use more conventional magic to levitate, but he found out that the wings were one of his most efficient spells, requiring little to no magical energy or cost, but for some pain he felt when they appeared.

  He was going to conserve his energy. The two mages who were supposed to go in the second wave with him were startled by his wings, and one even lost his balance. He had no time to waste with them.

  He folded his wings to fit and floated up through the trapdoor.

  Lorian silently summoned his spell blade—also an efficient spell. It was dangerous going into battle with only the wings and his blade, but he needed to survey the situation above before he expended any magical energy.

  It wasn't a decision he had made lightly. But his present tools would be sufficient. The wings gave him mobility and intimidation, while the blade provided protection if any of the enemies got close to him.

  *

  Lorian landed in the basement with a quick jump and spread his wings.

  The room appeared to be one meant for storage. He counted about ten combatants in all. Some of them had noticed his appearance and were startled by the presence of his wings. The thieves had told the mages that the only way to recognize their own was thin red sashes they wore. It was possible that the enemies could realize this and steal them from the dead, so the mages were allowed to err on the side of caution and kill those they considered enemies.

  Lorian saw four men who he felt were definitely enemies. Four was still the maximum number of fireballs he could release at once. He raised his hand, pointing it in their direction, and began his spell.

  Four blasts in quick succession sent fireballs racing toward his enemies. Two of them struck home—the last two. The first o
ne had been stopped by a spell breaker blade, while the target of the second rolled out of the way. The first one had probably been expected leaving the thief with enough time to defend himself. The second one just had incredibly good reflexes.

  The last two had probably never seen a chain of fireballs being released at once and were taken completely by surprise.

  The fire itself was weak. Lorian didn't pull in too much elemental energy when he cast them. Although the ones he hit were probably dead, the assassins stabbed them to ensure they were dead.

  The first one with the spell-breaker blade ignored his opponent and rushed at Lorian with murder in his eyes.

  They always attacked the mage first.

  There was enough heat in the room, and his well was partially filled with elemental fire.

  A perfect setting for manipulation magic. The added advantage being that the spell-breaker blade wouldn't be able to defend against it. There was plenty of time to react before the enemy reached him, but Lorian cast the spell as quickly as possible.

  A stream of fire lit up between Lorian and his target, lighting up his target. Not being as strong as elemental fire, let alone hellfire, the man began rolling on the floor to put it out.

  Using his wings, Lorian closed the distance between them rapidly, burying the blade into the man's head. The three Ravens who were now free from their opponents rushed to overwhelm the remaining two thieves, killing them in seconds.

  Twenty seconds since Lorian had entered, and the room was clear.

  One of the thieves waved his hand with a slight bow of the head, signaling his thanks, before the assassins moved towards the stairs leading up. One of them remained below and began scouting adjoining rooms to make sure they were clear.

  Lorian could have left the entire room smoldering if he had used his most powerful spells.

  But to what end?

  He wasn't here to exact vengeance on the traitors. Nor was he here out of some loyalty to Renal. He could care less about the guild war. His primary goal here was Dahl, the leader of the Summoners. The Summoner would be in the upper levels of the guild-hall, from what Marcus had told him. He would be well rested. In the worst case, Lorian had to assume Dahl was much stronger than him, in which case he would need every ounce of magical energy he had.

  This had also turned into a battlefield. Much like a game of chess, and the Black Ravens on Renal's side were his pawns. Showboating was for idiots. As much as Lorian relished the prospect of a one on one battle, Amadeus had shown him that part of being a great mage was also utilizing the right tactics.

  The two mages had climbed up through the trapdoor next to Lorian. Whatever Lorian's opinion was regarding these men standing next to him, he had best put it aside. They, too, were pieces on this board.

  "Flank me on either side," commanded Lorian, pulling in a large amount of magical energy.

  The two mages definitely felt the aura that Lorian was emanating. They nodded and followed as Lorian made his way to the stairs.

  As practical as he was trying to be, Lorian realized that being completely mature would be no fun at all.

  The increasing energy flowing through his body gave him an idea.

  He continued pulling in more energy until his entire body started vibrating and steaming. Orcus had mentioned that hatred and rage were emotions as normal to demons as breathing was to humans. Well, Lorian had to resort to other approaches to feel the emotions he wanted to.

  He flooded his mind with images of being chained in Amadeus's castle, of being used as a test subject for his experiments. And the essence drain. His eyes saw red as the demonic essence inside him grew. Spreading his arms and his wings, Lorian let the flow of magical energy reach its peak until he felt it.

  Mog'rath's essence flared up into his body and roared.

  The roar wasn't physical, but it was released as an aura of sheer terror. Still trembling from the flow of energy, Lorian slowly dismissed it as he walked toward the stairs. The two mages wore expressions of horror and were shaking with fear as they followed Lorian.

  Not all the magical energy would have been withdrawn. Some would have been wasted in process, but he felt it was worth it. He had just greeted Dahl.

  *

  "Did you feel that?" asked Nadia, sitting up straight.

  Coran had felt something. And oddly, it was somewhat familiar...and different at the same time.

  All of them looked towards Dahl, who appeared to be thinking intently. It was only the Summoners—four of them—and Coran who were on the upper level. Darius disappeared as soon as word reached that there had been an attack. He insisted on taking one of the Summoners with him, to which Dahl had grudgingly agreed.

  "The mages that you attacked—" Dahl started before Nadia interrupted him.

  "No," said Nadia. She seemed to have understood what Dahl was asking. "Only two of them escaped alive, and neither were capable of anything like this."

  She seemed worried. Coran understood that the aura had been strong, yet he didn't see anything to be concerned about.

  "Edwin, Lazrus. Head downstairs now," commanded Dahl.

  The two Summoners obeyed and disappeared.

  What the hell was he still doing here? Coran's work was finished. All he wanted to do was to get the Tome of Naxannor and leave. Nadia currently had it, and she seemed to be toying with him.

  He would even go as far as to say she was trying to seduce him. Her clothing, the way she sat in front of him, the way she spoke. She had all but said the words.

  Coran cursed her. She was very attractive. And he was all for some play with his work, but not here. And definitely not now. He should have asked her for the book more sternly instead of trying to be nice.

  And now Renal had invaded the guild-hall. Coran was a regular visitor to Archon, and he knew the man's reputation.

  "Don't you look cute with your brow all furrowed like that," she said in a mockingly sweet tone.

  Coran was about to lose his temper, but Dahl beat him to it.

  "This isn't the time for games, Nadia. I want you to follow them. Do not join the battle. Simply observe and report back to me."

  She scowled but obeyed nonetheless.

  *

  Illazehra clutched her chest. Gale had felt something wrong too. A primal fear rose up in his body. For a moment, it felt as if he was being stalked from the shadows and hunted by a wild animal.

  "It's him. Lorian," she said, gasping for breath.

  "Where did you find him?" asked Crassus.

  "A friend of the guild referred him to us," replied Marcus.

  "Do you know what he is?" Crassus asked coldly.

  "I don't know and I couldn't care less. All I care about is that he's on our side now."

  "You fool..." said Crassus, visibly angry.

  "That's enough," said Ceívar sternly. "Any problems you have with him, you can deal with after this is done with. He's on our side now."

  It seemed Ceívar, too, felt the discomfort. Even Kugan appeared to be slightly worried. The old mage rarely showed any emotions.

  The only man in the room who didn't seem the least bit affected was Renal, who had been standing like a rock since they reached the end of the tunnel. His eyes were open, but he appeared to be meditating. Gale couldn't even see his chest move as he breathed. The strange feeling slowly died away.

  The signal had been given for the third wave to enter as well.

  The good news was that the basement was clear, and there were only two casualties on their side, while a dozen of Darius's men were dead. But that was to be expected when you had the element of surprise. The key elements here, however, were the Summoners, who hadn't entered the battle yet.

  Marcus, Balthus, Ceívar and three of the lieutenants had gone ahead, with Kugan following them. Gale and Illazehra followed behind. There was no turning back now, thought Gale.

  Chapter 73

  Lorian spotted him. The first Summoner. Lorian had become the focal point of the offense due t
o his magical prowess and the thieves had rallied around him, protecting him. Two minutes ago, they had been set upon by five hellion wolves. Although Lorian assumed they were fodder, the thieves surprised him by at least holding their own against the wolves.

  When Lorian felt the slightest increase in magical power, he had fallen back, choosing to let the two mages go ahead. They were weak, and the number of spells they knew was limited. One was an elemental mage, like Lorian, and the other, surprisingly, was a necromancer. It was surprising because only good necromancers were good. Anything less and you were useless—you were better off studying elemental magic.

  As expected, the Summoner had targeted one of the mages. Fortunately it was the necromancer. The mage buckled and fell to the ground as a bright-red star struck him in the chest. He looked in the direction the star had come from and saw the shimmering form of the Summoner's cloaking spell disappear.

  This was it. He had to stop holding back now. The Summoners had to be eliminated if he was to face Dahl; otherwise they would only get in the way. And the man could give him an idea of the strength that Dahl possessed. You could tell much about a mage from his apprentices.

  Lorian brought out his wings again, still staying out of sight of the battlefield that the first level had become. In a flash, he sped forward, avoiding the hellion wolves clashing with the thieves to come within visible range of the Summoner. Heating up the air around the Summoner using manipulation magic, Lorian readied himself for the elemental fireball.

  This wouldn't be a chain. It would be one massive fireball.

  Lorian startled the Summoner by rushing in front of him. The wings served to heighten the element of surprise. The Summoner quickly started casting a protective spell, but not before Lorian released the compressed fireball at the Summoner's chest. The entire room lit up in a flash, followed by the sound of an explosion, which shook the room. If he weren't dead, he would have at least been knocked out. There was only smoke where the Summoner had been standing.

  The hellion wolves were next. Lorian pivoted, still flying, and raised both hands. Rage fed upon itself as Lorian filled his head with images of pain and violence, as he had done before. But this time, he wouldn't withdraw the magic.