by A. C. Cobble
“He has no chance!” screamed a guardian. The woman started running down the slope.
“Light,” said Towaal. “That’s what Gunther uses. We can manipulate it outside of the barrier and direct it at the creature. By the time it gets close, it will not have our will focusing it, and we won’t be interrupting the creature’s field of stasis.”
Raising her hands, the mage did something to refract light. Far above them, Ben could see a brilliant beam focusing down on the demon-king. It was the same attack she’d used in Ooswam. Other mages joined her and added their strength to the spell. They gathered more and more sunlight, darkening the rest of the sky, and turning a single beam of light into a brilliant, burning blaze that shone down on the demon-king.
The monster snarled. Then, it raised a village-sized wing, holding it like a parasol overhead. The wing blocked the light from its body, and it shined harmlessly on the creature’s black wing. The demon-king took another step closer.
“There is no way Gunther can reach us before it reaches him,” cried Amelie. She was clenching her hands, looking on in frustrated terror. Like the other mages, there was nothing she could do.
Ben, his mind swirling, struggled to think of something, anything.
Shouts rose up from all around him as mages attempted to manipulate energy and send it through the demon’s barrier. In some cases, it didn’t violate the creature’s stasis, like the light, and it passed through. In most, it fizzled into nothing. None of it did any damage, though. The demon-king advanced, shrugging off their attacks. In moments, it would be on Gunther.
They needed something with enough force, enough energy, that not even the demon-king could maintain stasis. Sunlight, a breeze, none of that was harming the creature. They had to think of something. They had to do it quickly, or else Gunther would be crushed, and the rest of them would be close behind. If they didn’t act, they’d all die.
Grim clarity washed over Ben.
“Jasper,” he said.
The ancient mage met his gaze.
Ben drew a deep breath and then released it slowly. “I am sorry.”
Jasper smiled and inclined his head. “There is no reason for you to be sorry, Ben. You’ve done more than could be expected of any man. You brought us together. You’ve given us leadership and a chance. Now, it’s my turn.”
The white-haired mage stepped forward, and the other mages fell silent, watching as the old man raised the wyvern fire staff. His skin split, and blood leaked from his wrists, pouring onto the pale wood, coursing into the tiny patterns carved there, powering the runes. The mouth of the staff began to glow.
The demon-king’s head snapped up. Its eyes blazed, looking directly at Jasper.
“Protect him!” shouted Towaal.
The mages swarmed, crossing their arms in front of themselves, erecting barriers around the white-haired man a moment before an enormous funnel of soot and fire blew from around the demon-king, drawn from the rift behind it. The flames swirled, tapering down to a point, focusing on the hilltop.
Ben crouched with Amelie, watching in horror as the fire battered against an invisible shell around them and the two dozen mages. He felt the heat searing his skin, pressing in. The barrier began to shrink, and on the outskirts, mages ignited like torches. Their skin popped and crackled. Bacon on a hot pan. He cringed, but there was nothing he could do. One by one, the mages went up, bursting into flame, and the circle grew smaller.
Ben couldn’t see anything outside of the barrier, only flame and soot. Inside, people were huddling closer and closer together, trying to stay within the protective bubble. Grim resignation painted the faces of those furthest out, but to their credit, every one of them held their hands high, maintaining the protection that gave Jasper the precious moments he needed.
Half the mages lost their lives, vanishing in the inferno swirling around them. With each death, the bubble shrank. Ben stood, trying to push his way to the edge to allow more room for the mages. It was critical they survive long enough for Jasper to act, but the bodies were pressed so close together that Ben couldn’t get around them without pushing someone else back into danger. He grunted in frustration, watching as another woman on the edge was incinerated.
Ben glanced at Jasper, hoping the man would have time, knowing he was powerless to help.
Then, Jasper raised the staff, and he punched back.
Incredible heat leapt from the wyvern fire staff and flew out into the fire and smoke. The white-haired mage strode forward, following his flame, and in the blink of an eye, the raging inferno vanished from around them. Ben watched in amazement as the tight funnel spiraled back, passing by the demon-king and into the rift behind it. The demon-king itself was contending with a different kind of fire.
A narrow band of flame shot from the mouth the wyvern fire staff. Jasper trained it on the monster, scouring the beast with incredible heat. The demon-king couldn’t harden its will against the overpowering heat, and where the flames moved, Ben could see the black flesh bubbled, and purple blood flashed into a charred crust.
Jasper was directing the fire like a butcher carving a hog. He shredded the demon-king’s wings when it tried to use them to defend itself, and he lashed the fire across its eyes, blinding it. Then, he bored the flame directly into its chest, melting a hole to its heart.
The demon-king raised its arms, trying to absorb the force of the fire, but Jasper kept going, burning holes through the arms and continuing into its chest. Stumbling back, the creature tried to retreat through the rift, but two of its huge steps away, the rift flickered out. Below them, Gunther had rolled onto his back and was watching the flames scourge the demon-king.
In front of him on the hill, Ben saw Jasper fall to one knee.
The flames continued, scalding hot, but the heat was drawn into a narrow channel, focused on the demon-king. The creature stumbled and fell to its knees, shaking the earth with an enormous boom. It still towered above them, but its massive shape was covered in char, and it struggled to raise its hands, to turn, to do anything to keep the awful fire from burrowing deeper into it.
A moment passed. Then, the creature let out an enormous, pitiful wail. It screeched in terror and anger. Jasper yelled, a cry of pain and elation rising until his voice failed him. The flame intensified in one last, steady blast. Then, the staff fell from his hands, and Jasper collapsed face first onto the grass.
A heartbeat later, the demon-king collapsed as well, falling in a nearly identical pose to the mage who had killed it. The thunderous impact rocked the hill and knocked Ben off his feet. He fell to his hands and knees, his eyes fixed on Jasper’s prone body and the fallen demon-king beyond him.
Amelie rushed to Jasper, turning him onto his back, placing her hands on him, and then sitting back, hurt and sorrow on her face like a mask. Elle arrived, pushing her way through the assembled mages and knelt on the other side of him. She didn’t touch him. She didn’t have to. The man was drained. Every ounce of his blood had been poured out into the staff.
The world was silent. There were no cheers from the survivors, no calls of gratitude. Everyone paused, waiting. They didn’t know for what. The demon-king was dead. Its army was dead. The rift it had opened was closed. They’d won. They’d defeated the demons.
And Jasper was dead. Half the mages had died, and over half the arms men in the battle before. They’d won, but the price had been high.
The silence was broken when heavy footsteps proceeded Gunther up the hill. Around him, guardians were swarming, mouths open in awe. The huge mage’s face was grim, though, and he stared down at his old friend.
He turned to look at the group before his eyes settled on Ben. “That should have been me. I wish that had been me.”
“There wasn’t time,” croaked Ben. “I tried to make him wait. We tried to think of something else…”
“I understand,” said Gunther. “You did what you had to do. Sometimes, that’s all there is. That… that creature could not be allowed
to roam freely here, no matter the cost. The devastation it would have wreaked would be beyond imagination.”
Ben couldn’t take his eyes away from Jasper’s body.
“This may be hard to hear,” rumbled Gunther, “but it was worth it. What Jasper bought with his life was worth it. The rift in the Wilds is closed, along with the one the Purple fashioned in the desert. There was a natural rift west of the City that I felt close, by the guardians I’m guessing since they are here. I closed one east of Irrefort. Now that the rift this monster opened is closed, there is no path, nothing that the dark forces can use to cross. The dark forces cannot come here, not into Alcott at least. Never again will man live in fear of these creatures.”
Ben looked up to meet Gunther’s gaze.
The big mage placed his hammer down and picked up the wyvern fire staff. It was spotlessly clean. Every drop of Jasper’s blood had been burned away, fed into the awful fire which had felled the demon-king. Without word, Gunther brought the staff down onto a raised knee, snapping the wood in two. He tossed the pieces to Ben.
“The power unleashed here today was unprecedented,” said the big mage. “In my time, I have neither seen or heard of the like. We cannot allow that to happen again.”
“Sir,” said one of the guardians. The man took a knee and looked up to Gunther. “We’ve been working constantly to keep the secrets of your kind safe. What you did today, the rift, the other world, it is astounding. It is more than I ever would have expected us to see. Let us serve you. Let us take you to what we have stored for you. You can use it. The devices, the knowledge, us. You can use it all to make this world right.”
Gunther frowned.
“We have devices of immense power,” continued the man. “Nothing like the staff, but in your hands, they would make incredible weapons. No one could stand against you. We have texts describing knowledge otherwise lost to this world. Ancient secrets at your disposal. We’ve collected everything we could from your peers, their knowledge, their power… Nearly unlimited power. You can train us as your disciples, and we will go wherever you command us.”
“Disciples?” asked Gunther.
The guardian bowed his head. He didn’t see the disgusted snarl on Gunther’s face.
“Where are these items stored?” queried the big mage. “In your village west of the City?”
The guardian glanced around nervously, but evidently decided if the First Mage was asking, he should answer. “Yes, safely in our village. No one knows it’s location but us, and, well, Lord Ben and his friends. We have a node gate. We can be there in a quarter bell.”
Gunther grunted and turned back to Ben. “I ask that you continue your work, Benjamin Ashwood. What you do is important. I understand that now, but I will not assist you. I hope you understand why. That is not the way, it cannot be the way. The time of the First Mages has passed, and the power wielded by us should pass as well. I should have died in Jasper’s place.”
The big mage gave Ben a hard look, and Ben swallowed uncomfortably.
“That staff, the knowledge and power of the First Mages, it cannot exist in this world,” continued Gunther. “It is too dangerous, and in time, it will always be misused. There are those who do not understand that, and they never will. I do not have the time or patience for the debate. You will explain it to them, Ben?”
“I’ll do my best,” acknowledged Ben.
“Good,” said Gunther. “You know where you can find me, but if you ever do, it had better be worth it. Now, I have something to go do.”
Without acknowledging the guardians, Gunther strode down the hill, heading south. He passed Adrick on the way, not pausing. The other guardians, confused, scrambled to be near their leader, none of them bold enough to trail Gunther. Ben followed them to Adrick Morgan’s side.
“Should we follow him?” asked the guardian who had been speaking earlier.
Adrick blinked, watching the back of the First Mage as he hiked down the road, alone.
“He doesn’t want you to follow him,” said Ben.
“But he’s the First Mage!” exclaimed the man. “The only one left. Our responsibility is to him. The wisdom he has, the teachings he can share with us, we must be with him!”
Adrick struggled to sit, assisted by Elle. He shook his head. Slowly, he said, “Ben is right. If the First Mage does not want us to follow him, then we should not.”
“Not follow him! What is he doing then?” pleaded the guardian. “We’ve spent our lives preparing for this.”
Adrick met Ben’s eyes.
Ben read the question on his face and answered it. “He’s going to your village where I suspect he’ll use that hammer to smash your hall. Then, he’ll eradicate any knowledge you have of the First Mages. He’ll crush any devices you have and burn any written manuscripts. After that, he will leave.”
“To where?” choked the man.
“He’ll go away,” said Ben quietly, “to a place where he can be free. Free from the expectations and responsibilities you’d place on him.”
“But-but we need him… The world needs him,” stammered the man, tears running down his face. “Why-why would he do this?”
Quietly, Ben answered, “So that we can be free too. Free to live our lives. Free to make our own decisions. Free to save ourselves.”
“What do we do?” said the man, falling to his knees. He bowed his head, both hands resting on the turf.
Ben shrugged. “We do the best we can.”
There was a long pause as they watched Gunther march away.
“It seems my mission is no longer necessary,” said Adrick, breaking the silence. “If we’re free to choose, then I will follow you, Ben. After seeing what we faced here, I do not think I can rest comfortably knowing that whether by man or by demon, that kind of evil is possible. As long as you oppose it, you will have me at your side.”
Ben grunted, unsure of what to say.
“We will follow you as well,” said a ranger. The man was standing in front of a group of his peers. He waved a hand toward the field where a carpet of dead demons stretched for hundreds of paces. “Things like this cannot be. The leaders of this land ignored the threat, and we almost paid a dear price. Venmoor, my city, would not have survived what we battled here. Everyone I know would have died. The Alliance, the Coalition, they did nothing. The Sanctuary knew what was coming and instead of help they sent assassins! You are the one who saved us, Lord Ben, and I will follow you.”
“The man’s got a point,” remarked Lloyd, speaking before Ben could object to the title. The blademaster hitched his belt and glanced back at his companions. “After this, I’d feel awfully silly returning to the college and teaching noble sons how to impress girls with a well-swung blade.”
“The Sanctuary is not our place anymore,” added Hadra. “We disobeyed the Veil and left against her wishes. We cannot go back there, so we will follow you as well, for now.”
Ben looked around the top of the hill, studying the battered group. They said they would follow him, but to where? He couldn’t lead these people.
“Ben,” said Amelie quietly, “there is still much to do.”
His eyes locked on the giant corpse of the demon-king. Smoke drifted off of it, thick and black. The thing was as large as a village, and it was blocking the road. He knew what he had to do. He just didn’t want to say it.
Finally, he muttered, “Very well. First things first, let’s move camp. It’s going to smell here soon, and this many dead demons is certain to bring pestilence. When we’ve settled, Towaal, I want you and the other mages to far-see the surrounding area. We killed a thousand demons on this field, and countless more were washed downstream, but was that all of them, did any escape? Let’s make sure we’ve finished the job right.”
Towaal nodded, a hand rubbing her lips, not quite hiding a smile. Lloyd began barking orders, assembling the rangers, the blademasters, and the Kirksbane watch who looked to be following the rest of the arms men. The blademaster see
med a capable sort, and Ben left him to it.
Adrick struggled to gain his feet, and Ben stooped to haul him up.
“My people,” the man started. Then he drew a deep breath before continuing, “Both my people and I will be very lost in this world. We’ve spent centuries waiting on direction from the First Mage, and when we meet him, he wants nothing to do with us.”
“Yeah,” agreed Ben, thinking back to his first encounter with Gunther. “He’s like that. Come on. We’ve got work to do.”
18
A Dead King
One week later, Ben sat in the common room at the Curve Inn. All around him, the room bustled with activity. Men came and left, plans were discussed, and orders were issued.
In one corner, Lloyd held court with a gaggle of blademasters. The men had been tasked with training and organizing the rangers from Venmoor, the watchmen from Kirksbane, and an influx of new arrivals. When word had gotten out about the giant battle just north of town, it seemed every young man within thirty leagues had come to join the force. Their numbers swelled, but none of the new arrivals had a fraction of the skill of the men and women they replaced.
Luckily, Ben had the squad of expert swordsman from the most elite college of the sword in Alcott. Lloyd and the other blademasters had jumped on the opportunity to help train the newcomers and form effective companies when Ben first suggested it.
In another portion of the room, Amelie and Towaal sat with their heads close together discussing finances and logistics. Men and women were following them now, officially part of their burgeoning army. That meant they expected to be clothed and fed. That meant, somehow, they had to come up with coin for supplies and a way to actually get those supplies into people’s hands. Ben’s eyes had immediately glazed over the moment the discussion grew serious, but luckily for him, Amelie was willing to step in and handle that role. She’d been training her entire life to run Issen, so managing their small army’s material was easy for her.