Deraj shot a fireball at the dwarf, but the warrior dodged the attack. The Ikalreev Archmage released several more fireballs for measure at the dwarf, and again the experienced soldier dodged them successfully. Ehreion’s charge quickly approached the Archmage, and in response, the magical being released a devouring stream of flame at the dwarf. The relentless flowing fire engulfed the entire area before him and consumed the raging warrior.
A painful scream pierced the jet of deafening flame as Ehreion dropped to his hands and knees under the effective attack and his skin began to burn. He succumbed to its overwhelming force as his armor superheated and glowed an intense molten orange, although he noticed the initial burns on his skin astonishingly began to heal. The warrior watched in disbelief as his injured skin reduced in surface area, and no further burning occurred. The dwarf observed his unnatural resistance to the fire and failed to understand why he was able to survive in the cone of fire or what had caused him to heal. The remaining obstacle he struggled to overcome was the lack of breathable air as the fire consumed all the oxygen around him. He coughed and fought with his dulling senses as the continuous jet of flame roared around him.
He felt something within as he weakened, an internal beckoning or a call without a voice. It was a sensation of rushing power within his core, and he could feel an unusual pulsing beat accompanying it. He was uncertain of what he felt and of the power welling up inside him.
Deraj’s voice penetrated the roaring fire. “Listen for the magic’s call within you and allow the beating heart to set you free.”
Ehreion was losing strength, and his vision began to blur as his mind started to fade from the lack of oxygen.
“Have you reached your limit? Is this all the dwarf from the Verdunmull Scar has in him?” Deraj taunted the fading soldier. “Pathetic. I believed the magic had chosen a strong warrior, not a meager weakling who spoke as if he was larger than any problem he would come against. If you fall here, then you are indeed worthless, Ehreion Hammerforge, for this trial should be considered easy compared to what you will face in the days to come.”
A rolling roar rose from within the cone of continuous fire, and a sudden shockwave of energy erupted from its midst, parting its flow and allowing the dwarf to breathe fresh air again. The fire’s flowing stream divided in half as it met Ehreion’s outstretched palms in defense against the Ikalreev’s relentless attack. He pushed against the onslaught of flame, and it bent to his will. The dwarf roared through the raging fire, and his eyes began to glow a brilliant orange. The light engulfed his eyes and shined brightly as his intensity was amplified by the magic’s heart within him. He could hear its beckoning call and listened to its influential force. It pushed him to act in a certain way, and he listened to its mystical intelligence.
Ehreion pushed against the Ikalreev’s endless flame with one hand and lowered the other to the ground below him in a calm motion. He closed his eyes and heard the magic’s beating heart. The dwarf breathed out, and the ground began to shake, quickly escalating into a violent tremor.
Underneath Deraj, the soil began to glow a deep orange, and the rock began to melt away. The wise Ikalreev Archmage witnessed the coming attack and disappeared as the ground exploded with a flowing stream of lava. The jet spewed high into the air and rained back down in violent molten rain.
The Ikalreev’s cone of flame dispersed as soon as he disappeared, leaving the dwarf to recover in awe of the Archmage’s vanishing. Ehreion searched his surroundings as he waved a hand to the side, effectively halting the spewing pillar of lava, and the hole rapidly cooled and solidified into firm rock once again.
The dwarf warrior stood back up. His armor glowed as superheated steel would in a forger’s fire but failed to harm him; he had somehow gained an absolute resistance to the heat encasing him now. His skin was unscathed, and he was left dumbfounded by the events taking place around him.
Ehreion enjoyed the surge of power flowing through his body and soaked in the feeling flooding his form. His glowing orange eyes glanced around for the Ikalreev Archmage and wondered to where his foe had retreated. The dwarf breathed in deeply and retracted his arms close to his chest, and then in one fluid movement, he threw out his arms to either side. In response, a five-foot-tall ring of rolling fire radiated outward from him.
As the turbulent firewall expanded and reached the edges of the landscape, Ehreion shouted, “I am not worthless . . . I am not useless!”
No answer arose from his surroundings.
“Where did you run off to?” the dwarf bellowed into the vacant cave. “Do you fear me now and hide from this power?”
“No.” The answer echoed from the deep dark beyond the flame perimeter. “You are still weak and far from powerful. Prepare yourself, Ehreion Hammerforge; the Trial of Flame will now fulfill its true purpose.”
“What?” The dwarf glanced around in apprehension. “But I have woken; why is this trial not over?”
“You must gain mastery of the magic and find harmony with the flame heart. You will learn to accept its strength without hindering its power, let it breathe through you in absolute unity,” Deraj thundered from the deep dark, “Now, prepare for what comes because the true Trial of Flame is just beginning. You must learn to use the magic in all its capacity and forms. This trial will be far from easy, dwarf, and pain will find you.”
“Does it have to?” Ehreion said. “Cannot we just find a tavern and share a pint?”
“No,” Deraj asserted, once again before the dwarf with an outstretched palm. The Ikalreev Archmage tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. He then inquired, “Have you noticed the sky is falling?”
“But we are underground.” Ehreion shook his head in confusion.
“Are we?” Deraj queried.
A sudden rush of change flowed over the dwarf, and their scenery abruptly transformed into that of the surface world. It appeared that he stood on the plains of Gathian somehow, and his mind had trouble coping with the sudden environmental shift. He glanced up to the sky and saw meteors falling in a torrent of blazing projectiles.
“What in the . . .” Ehreion trailed off.
Deraj smirked at the enthralled dwarf and urged him on. “An army approaches. How will you survive the sky’s fury and an orc army at the same time?”
The dwarf sighed. “You owe me a drink once we are done . . . I cannot believe you are making me fight sober and without my ax.“
The dwarf indeed enjoyed a good fight and welcomed a real challenge to his skill, but he did not care for the trial or magical powers, and he did not really want to be there as he did not wish to be a mage. The orange glow in his eyes intensified as he watched the massive falling meteors in admiration and wondered if he could affect them with the magic growing inside him. A crazed expression crossed his face as when he had fought the three dragons in Ardara, and the dwarf began to find acceptance of his recently acquired attributes.
“Bring it, mage,” Ehreion shouted. “I will beat the foul greenskins into the ground!”
The dwarf roared with great might and charged toward the marching orc army. He lifted his arms to the sky and willed the meteors to move under the flame heart’s will. His fury and the magic’s core grew in fearsome unity as the meteors curved through the sky, and their trajectories adjusted and maneuvered toward the orc army. The magical orc army did not turn in fear; instead, they charged forth with greater fervor. The dwarf knew the Ikalreev mage would not allow the battle to end easily.
Ehreion laughed heartily and welcomed the budding trial, yearning for the challenge to his battle skills and newfound magic.
◆◆◆
A rushing wind howled through the cavern with a pulsing flow and caused a deepening chill as any residual heat was siphoned from all exposed surfaces. The air smelled refreshing and clear to Ireli as she slowly regained consciousness. The sensation was pleasing, like drinking glacier water; a pristine and refreshing taste accompanied it.
Ireli’s eyes fluttered open,
and she saw a faint light in the distance, which looked to be the lone light source in the seemingly massive cave. She rolled over onto her side and breathed deeply as she recovered. Her human body struggled to regain its strength from the long, magic-induced coma.
The air howled as it swirled around her and created a sensation of the room being quite large. Beyond the wind, her hearing perceived only a hollow silence and a persistent eeriness. She was still lying on the small platform where, unknown to her, Caedmon had placed her so she could enter the Trial of Gales.
She glanced around the dimly lit landscape before her, and she quickly found herself disoriented and scared as she did not recognize the environment around her. The last location she could remember was the seal south of Mor, the same place where she had confronted the demon and aided Caedmon in surviving the evil creature’s overwhelming attacks. She knew her current surroundings were far removed from what she could last remember. An oppressing fear flooded her mind as she realized that she was alone in an unknown location and without any knowledge of how she ended up in the unfamiliar cavern.
She patted her two primary dagger sheaths and noticed that her twin blades were indeed missing due to her fight with the demon. The memory of them melting away inside the demon’s side came back to her, though she noticed her many remaining reserve daggers were housed safely in their respective sheaths, strapped strategically across her body.
Ireli was a strong-willed woman who was raised in a dangerous human town by a strict father whose work involved assassinations and local political plays in the shadows; however, she found herself experiencing a growing fear as she was uncertain if she was still living or if this was some type of afterlife punishment. She wondered if her shady past had provided her current surroundings as a type of purgatory in darkness, to forever experience a cold dark emptiness without warmth, comfort, or love.
She peered down over the edge of her small platform and gazed into the seemingly endless abyss below as it descended into the world. A gust of wind rushed up from the depths and whipped her red hair around wildly. Ireli receded back from the edge and took a deep breath as she attempted to push through her fear.
The beautiful tracker stood up and called out into the dim cave. “Hello?”
There was no answer from the deep dark.
She stepped into the barren landscape before her and began walking toward the dim light source at the far end of the visible area. Her light leather-and-cloth armor provided very little protection from the chilling gusts as it did not completely cover her slim body. Her armor was not meant for complete protection during a fight—only strategic points of defense for deflection and soft impacts. However, her incomplete armor did provide thermal windows for rapid cooling and was better suited for intense activity in moderately hot environments so she would not overheat while running long distances in pursuit of her quarry. The tracker was perfectly outfitted for just that—tracking and pursuing—not full combat.
“Hello?” the youthful woman shouted. “Is anyone out there?”
Her voice echoed back disconcertingly from the deep dark, unlike her first shout, which had faded into the cavern.
A foreign voice answered, “Yes.”
She peered into the shadows but was unable to see anyone. She slipped a hand slowly over one of her dagger’s hilts in preparation to defend against the potentially dangerous stranger. The howling winds picked up and prevented all other sound from reaching her ears. The tracker rotated apprehensively in search of the voice’s source and sniffed the air in hopes of smelling the individual should she be downwind, though after a moment she wondered what would be considered downwind in this cave. The wind seemed to swirl in different directions and foiled her wits by preventing her from sensing the individual who answered her.
“Why are you afraid, human?” A voice sounded beside her.
Ireli spun around in surprise, and her eyes opened wide when she saw a tall, lean frame standing only a few feet from her. She fell back, startled, and landed on her posterior. The tracker skittered backward on her hands and feet in an attempt to put distance between the strange creature and herself. After she felt a relatively safe distance had been reached, one of her hands slipped a dagger from its sheath, and she held it defensively across her chest.
“Quick to defend yourself. Good,” the being observed stoically. “Though an equally poor and weak reaction to being startled.”
Ireli flipped backward and up onto her feet in a low defensive stance. She examined the noticeably unreadable being. He did not move or exhibit emotion, and his arms hung freely beside him in a relaxed manner. The wary human quickly glanced around the room to see if any other possible threats attempted to flank her.
“Why do you fear me, Ireli?” the magical being queried. She did not answer him, so he continued. “Is your fear due to unfamiliarity or lack of self-confidence?”
Again, she did not answer the tall, thin stranger standing before her as she slowly backed away.
“Or is your fear due to self-acknowledgment of your overall lack of physical strength and inner resolve?” Deraj questioned with an eye of suspicion.
“I am not weak. I may fear . . . and that is reasonable. Fear provides understanding when possible dangers are near. It provides the ability to overcome challenges and prevent possible injury; an unenlightened individual may not agree.”
An impressed expression crossed Deraj’s face, and he acknowledged, “Fair reasoning. You are right on one hand—fear increases awareness, reflexes, and situational perception, although it may inhibit rational thinking and circumvents self-assurance and self-confidence.”
“Fear is necessary, or else one would walk into fire or a sword as a reckless fool. It is wise to understand one’s limitations,” she added.
“True.” Deraj nodded. “But why should you fear when you contain the power to overcome nearly all?”
Ireli shook her head in refutation. “I have no such power; no human does.”
“No normal human contains the power I imply, but you are far from normal, Ireli,” the Ikalreev Archmage asserted.
“What do you speak of?” the slight tracker replied hesitantly. “I have no abnormal powers. I am a tracker, not a warrior.”
“Perhaps, but you have the ability and magic within you to become a force of reckoning, a force of nature with the ability to stand against formidable armies and unnatural enemies,” the slender stranger said. “All you need to do is peer inside yourself and search for the power lying dormant within you. Search for the magic heart at your core, awaiting your recognition and acceptance.”
“I do not understand what you speak about. I hail from an untalented bloodline with no magical ties. I should have no such thing within me,” she insisted. “I am uncertain who you are and where I am. My trust is not yours to have, and the power you speak about fails to exist. I am sorry, but you have the wrong human.”
Ireli released her tension and stood tall. She sheathed her dagger and turned away from the strange figure. The trained assassin searched around the room for an exit while maintaining an ear to her surroundings to make sure the unfamiliar individual did not attempt to sneak up on her. The suntanned beauty walked the perimeter of the barren landscape and became curious.
She called out to the stranger, keeping her eyes on the deep dark beyond the bottomless abyss surrounding them. “Where are we that such an impenetrable darkness exists? I smell nothing, hear nothing, and see nothing beyond this land. Am I dead?”
A silence lingered on the air after she posed the questions to the stranger, and she turned around to glimpse the tall figure, but she was stunned to see the specter had vanished. He was nowhere to be seen, and she was left alone on the featureless landscape. Her heart began to beat faster as she realized she was now alone in the unfamiliar cavern. She quickly moved back to the middle of the visible area and peered into the shadows for any sign of motion or presence.
“Hello?” she called out into the silence.
<
br /> No answer returned to her.
She shifted her gaze toward the faint light at the far end of the cavern. No better option lay before her, so she began walking toward the dim light. The glowing source did not appear to be far off the ground, and its intensity barely pierced the dim surroundings. The closer she got to the light, the stronger the winds became, so much so that she began to stagger under their influential gales. The light slowly transformed into an elongated and glowing form, which caused the tracker to hesitate.
The young woman was uncertain if she should continue forward but saw no other option. She stepped forth and laid her eyes on a shocking sight. Great fear rose within her and caused her heart to skip a beat when she realized who the form before her was. The person was unconscious and not breathing, and her heart dropped as she recognized herself.
“How can this be?” she gasped. “Am I dead? Is this the spirit realm?”
She lowered a hand down and touched the cheek of her possibly dead self. The red-haired tracker inspected the glowing person with her soft green eyes and traced the side of her sleeping face with one hand. An odd sensation met her fingers.
“Am I a specter?” Worry consumed her, and panic began to set in as she studied her sleeping body. “It cannot be so . . .”
“Are you afraid?” The stranger’s voice sounded behind her. “If you were able to save yourself, would you?”
Ireli turned around, looked at the majestic Ikalreev Archmage, and replied, “I will fight to survive. What must I do?”
Deraj stepped to the side and lifted a hand behind him to motion at the giant creature standing at the opposite end of the landscape, back toward the platform on which Ireli woke. The hideous creature stood eleven feet tall and snarled in ferocity at the tracker, whitening as the blood left her skin in fright.
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