A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos)

by Wilkerson, Brian

  “Mercenary Leader, do I get my money back if you don't do anything?”

  “No.”

  Another hour passed. Tiza let out a long, bored, sigh and let her sheath drag on the ground. It stirred the now knee-level Fog. She couldn't even watch the giants fight if nothing attacked. Then she saw Eric anxiously checking pillar shadows. She grinned. Then, quiet as a mouse, she snuck up behind him and shouted in his ear. He jumped three feet straight up, spun, and brought his staff down on Tiza. She blocked with her targe.

  “Chill, Dimwit, or you'll wear yourself out.” Eric glared.

  One more hour and the caravan entered a wide-open chamber. No pillars could be seen nor were there any sky holes to illuminate them. This deep in the caverns only glowing crystals lit their way. Anuzat's giant employees put on sunglasses and pulled large rocks from out of their packs.

  “Activate!”

  The rocks lit up the area. Rocks charmed to be floodlights; I wonder what kind of spell is used. The giants spread out in a circle, dropped their burdens, and sat down next to them. Anuzat's human employees set up camp: building a fire, pitching tents, and giving food to the giants.

  Basilard accepted a meal from one of the humans and sat next to Anuzat. “You already seem to have capable guards in your giants, so why'd you hire us? And I find this very relevant to my job.”

  “I live by rules, Mercenary Leader, and one of them is you can never be too careful.”

  “Then why'd you hire novices?”

  “Squad Five Senior for a bargain; why pay for three regulars when their mentor is all I'll need?”

  “You've done your homework.”

  “As would any merchant worth their salt.”

  The novices sat nearby. Tiza dropped to the stone floor, but didn't eat with her usual enthusiasm. “I don't believe it. I thought escorts would be exciting but this is even duller than mowing that guy's lawn. At least then we were doing something.”

  “You should consider yourself lucky to be so bored,” Nolien said. “You'd be terrified if you actually met a C class.”

  “Why!?” Tiza demanded. “‘Cause I'm a girl!?”

  “No,” Nolien said, surprised at her barbed tone. “Only fools are fearless.”

  “Well, I'm not a fool, but I'm still not scared of anything!” Tiza yelled.

  “All right, all right, you're not scared of anything.”

  With a look of triumph, Tiza finally dug into her meal.

  Why is Tiza so determined to be strong? Or, at least, make others believe she's strong? He knew he shouldn't bother; girls were complicated and even if he guessed right, he'd have to ask her to be sure. I probably wouldn't live through that. The question nagged. It was a puzzle and he liked puzzles. This one's going to drive me insane. So he focused on his meal instead.

  The rock lights shattered and the caravan was plunged in darkness. In the dim light, Eric could see blue-brown wolves rushing their position. Xethras! The pack surrounded the caravan and attacked in groups. One engaged while a second bit their ankles and a third ripped their throat out. The perimeter was broken at once. Monsters are mindless!

  “Looks like you won't be bored after all, Tiza.” Nolien said grimly, his staff in hand and already glowing. The fighter said nothing. All she did was grip her sword and stare.

  The xethras advanced, but were rebuffed by a wave of power. Light shined. Basilard held a blood red sword above his head and it glowed with an intense aura. He was so bright it hurt to look at him. The xethras roared at Basilard but didn't dare advance. The power of his spirit . . .he's holding them back with it! Eric could feel it on his skin, opening every pore on his body. The very air shook with the pure power radiating from the Bladi.

  “Stay BACK!”

  Another wave of power slammed into the xethras. They skidded but dug their claws into the stone. Slowly, they tightened their circle. Basilard pointed at one and incinerated it. The others howled and withered in pain, as if they themselves were burned. As one, they growled threateningly and glowed with green light.

  The light grew and grew and grew until it was one aura. This was not the controlled force of Basilard's spirit, but wild and savage. The once clean air was polluted by a bloodlust so palpable Eric could taste the iron. It pressed in on him from all sides and drove him to his knees.

  Nolien's eyes widened and his mouth dropped. “They're pooling their spiritual power . . .amazing . . .we're gonna die . . .”

  The ground cratered under the force of their united aura. Everyone was helpless, except Basilard. He stood tall in defiance of the green aura. It surged and clashed with his own blood red; slicing the air. They roared and Basilard roared back. The sword pulsed and Basilard nodded.

  He blurred and he reappeared in front of a xethras with his sword hilt deep in its head. It fell to the ground as a shriveled husk. The remaining monsters withered and their aura shrank. Basilard flung his arm towards the xethras next to him and flung it onto a stalagmite. The aura shrank further still. The closest lunged and joined its fellows. The aura finally weakened enough for Eric to struggle to his feet.

  Staff in hand, he fired mana bolts at a xethras. They did so little damage the lupine didn't notice him. They sniffed his mentor's aura as if it made them hungry. They were determined to taste the source even if it meant being chopped in two.

  It was the most amazing and disturbing sight Eric had ever seen. A surviving giant smashed a xethras' head open, but it healed and headbutted him. A human cut another's forelegs off and it beat him to death with rapidly growing stumps. A camel breathed fire and incinerated the upper half of a third and the lower half raked him. The merchants couldn't keep up; in short order, they were all dead.

  The camp had been transformed into a banquet. The xethras fed on the dead and those without a meal chased those still alive. They ripped muscle and crunched bone. The smell of blood was everywhere. Only one noticed the novices or their client.

  Tiza darted and, with a mighty yell, plunged her sword into its side. Her stance was broken by the recoil. The armor of skin and fur repelled her blade like plate mail. The beast rounded on her and snapped at her wrist. She blocked with her targe and the monster cracked it between its jaws. Tiza's scream echoed in the chamber.

  She jerked her arm and hacked the xethras holding it. The monster ignored her. It pushed her down and sniffed her grim streaks. Its claws shot out.

  “Earth support me now! In this cave, I make my vow! Save my friend from this foul! Petrify!”

  A sphere of brown light splattered over the xethras. It hardened and became grey stone. A charm on Tiza's wrist glowed. She shattered the monster's jaw and shoved the broken statue off. It thudded on the ground, solid. She stood up and scurried to Nolien, who wiped sweat from his forehead as the spell took its toll on him. The xethras statue shook. The stone liquefied and slid off. With its regenerated jaw slightly open and saliva dripping out, Eric swore it was smiling.

  We're . . . nothing . . . to this thing . . .

  It lunged and it was obliterated by a flash of red light. Basilard was suddenly in front of them, back turned, with xethras hanging off his limbs by their teeth. He swung his arms forward to bash their heads together, and while they were stunned, he used them as fails to beat off the ones on his legs.

  “Nolien, take command.” He speared the two xethras.

  “Tiza, guard the client.” His arms flared red light and charcoal fell from his arms. Two more tried a pincher move; Basilard pointed his sword at one and his palm at the other. One was drained and the other vaporized.

  “Eric protect your—” A third leaped for his neck while he was occupied. He bit his tongue and fired a blast of red light from his mouth. The beast turned to dust in midair.

  “Daylra! I can't! I'm not strong enough!”

  The xethras was back and flanked by more. Its howl drew still more and they all pounce only to be blown across the cavern and far away from the novices.

  “You'll be fine. Remember what I taugh
t you. “

  Eric looked at the hand that held the sword. Blood dripped from both. The Bladi mage gathered a handful and threw at the gathering horde, maiming many but killing none. They regrew and regrouped. Basilard formed a second sword and faced the charging xethras.

  “There's a tunnel behind you. I'll hold them here. GO!”

  “Uh, right! Team Four, retreat!“

  Nolien ran as ordered with Tiza and Anuzat close behind. Eric looked over his shoulder in his flight. The last image of his mentor was xethras swarming him.

  The novices formed an inverted triangle with Eric taking point. They ran carefully through the dark and twisting cavern, but when they heard the pounding of paws, they broke into a sprint.

  The howls grew steadily louder. The walls vibrated with their power. They're going to catch us! Howling! Shielding, elemental . . . That's it! He spun and pointed his staff. I hope I get this right!

  “Sometimes it is better to run than fight . . . ” He chanted with his eyes closed. “So give me a big flash of light! FLARE!”

  The lead xethras lunged. A burst of light flared from Eric's staff and lit up the cave like a miniature sun. The xethras yelped in surprise and crashed to the ground. The ones behind it tripped and skidded along the uneven floor. They stumbled into the cave wall or each other. It evolved into a full-fledged brawl and the sapients were forgotten.

  “Blind them, of course!” Nolien said and wiped his forehead again. “Their eyes aren't used to light in these caves. Good thinking, Eric!”

  Tiza gave him a playful punch with her sword arm; her shield one was a bloody mess. “Maybe you're not such a dimwit after all.”

  Eric flushed with pleasure. “It was nothing, really,”

  “Don't relax!” Anuzat said. “We're not safe yet.”

  They ran as fast as they could. They never dared stop. Nolien spurred them on when they lagged; encouraging them to make it to the next bend. He pushed them until he ran out of air. Their dash slowed to a jog and then a breathless walk. Nolien pointed to a small nook off the beaten path. The mages fell to their knees and Anuzat flopped on her bottom. Tiza forced herself to sit down slower, but then she fell on her back.

  The cave was cold and getting colder by the minute. The chilly stone felt wondrous on their sweaty bodies. Nolien, however, warned them against getting too comfortable and told Eric to cast a fire. Failing to protect the caravan made him feel even more inadequate than usual, but lighting a fire on his first try made him feel a little better.

  “Leave me alone!” Tiza shouted. She was glaring at Nolien and clutching her injured arm.

  “If you don't let me treat your arm, it'll get infected. Then you won't be able to fight anymore.”

  “I'll do it. I don't need your help.”

  “Tiza, an injury of that degree needs more than a sling! Just let me do it.”

  They argued until Nolien lost patience and grabbed Tiza's arm. She jerked away and slipped on a banana peel. Their fall brought their faces a breath apart. Nolien turned red from embarrassment and Tiza from anger.

  “GET OFF!” She shoved him away with her good arm.

  He scooted away and looked aside. “That wouldn't have happened if you'd just let me heal you!”

  Awkward . . . He picked up the banana peel. Where'd this come from?

  Tiza groaned and tightened her grip. “Adrenaline's wearing off, isn't it?”

  “Shut up!” Tiza growled through clenched teeth. “I can take it!”

  Nolien face-palmed. “Is that what this is all about? Acting tough?”

  “I am tough!”

  “How about this: you let me heal the arm and I'll let you keep the scar? Then I can do my job and you'll have proof of how tough you are.”

  Tiza didn't answer. At least, she didn't say anything, but a moan escaped her lips. Nolien brought his staff to her arm and she didn't move away.

  “So, what's the plan?” Eric asked Nolien.

  Nolien was the official corporal. Basilard put him in charge so he would know what to do. He didn't answer until he finished with Tiza's arm. Eric told himself he needed to focus on healing and would tell him the plan once he was finished.

  “We wait for Sergeant Basilard,” he said at last. “He told us which tunnel to dart into so once he kills all those xethras, he'll find us.”

  Yeah, that should work. You're supposed stay put and wait for help when you're lost . . . Eric trailed off as his comforting thought twisted itself. N-not that we're lost! Our client knows the way!

  So they waited. The monsters were just C class after all. They were death to a novice but nothing to a Squad Five Senior! Eric could just picture him casually walking into their camp, dirty book in one hand and some battle trophy in the other. He would say their training was lacking and then work them into the ground when they got back to the guild. Eric never would have imagined that the thought of intense training could make him so happy and reassured.

  Something scraped and stumbled near them. All three novices raised their weapons. Even Tiza gasped when it stepped into the fire light. A boy carried their badly injured sergeant over his shoulder. He was covered in blood, sweat, and dust, and he was breathing heavily. He made one last, labored, step towards the camp and fell forwards.

  “AIO!” Eric dropped his staff and jumped, catching him just before he hit the ground. Tiza and Nolien caught Basilard and together the three of them dragged the casualties into the nook.

  Eric laid Aio next to their floating fire and by its light he saw something he'd never forget: Aio's bright eyes were dull. It was chillingly similar to the way he looked that night in Roalt. “Aio, what are you doing here!? Do you have a death wish, you abyss-cursed moron!?”

  Aio forced a smile. “That's a rude way to greet your former roommate.” The smile turned into a grimace. His clothes were in tatters and stained red; his body lined with open wounds.

  “Aio . . .” Eric said softer. “You know what I mean.”

  “I heard you were in trouble, Roomy.”

  “But how did you—”

  “I . . . I can't save both of them!” Nolien yelled. “I don't have enough mana, enough time, enough—”

  “Then pick one!” Tiza ordered.

  “B-But the one I don't choose will die! I can’t do that! I can't play judge!”

  Tiza swatted him. “If you don't choose, both of them will die! Now pick!” Nolien looked from the half-dead Aio to the equally injured Basilard and back again and again. “Fine! Heal Daylra!”

  Nolien nodded. Like a machine on autopilot, he pulled the bottle of cream out of his pocket and spread it over Basilard's injuries. He tensed and swore when the cream only covered half.

  Again on autopilot, he closed his eyes and his staff glowed white. He took a deep breath, let it out, and placed his staff gently on Basilard's gaping chest. The light seeped in and spread through his body. Slowly but surely, the bleeding stopped and the wounds started closing.

  “Stop the bleeding, check for germs, close the wound . . .” Nolien muttered under his breath. There was an eerily cheery rhythm to it. “ . . . mend the bones, reconnect the nerves and veins.”

  Eric ripped strips of cloth from his tunic.

  “Don't worry, Aio. I may not be a healer but I know First Aid.” You're NOT dying today! He bandaged Aio's wounds, then realized it was pointless. There were more wounds than cloth. “Okay, I'll apply pressure.” Something's gotta work!

  “Relax . . . Roomy . . .” Aio said drowsily. “I'll be fine . . .Can't even feel it . . . anymore . . .”

  His eyes went out.

  “Aio!” Eric shouted and grabbed him. “AIO!” His eyes welled up with tears and narrowed. “All right, I'm through playing along, Tasio! I know it's really you! Game over!”

  Aio didn't budge.

  “You pretended to kill yourself in my apartment, remember?! I'm not falling for it this time!”

  Still no response.

  “Tasio, this isn't funny! I know it's you!” The t
ears flowed. “Aio was one of the first people I met when I got here, and really, 'Aio Ricse'? It's obviously letters from 'Tasio Trickster'!”

  The only sound Aio made was the steady drip of his blood on the stone floor.

  “Still not convinced?” Eric's voice broke. “All right, Aio acts just like you and he knew when I arrived in Tariatla! Tasio, get up!”

  He was sure Aio would spring to life and shout, “Kidding!” just like Tasio did in his apartment. He was positive a trickster could make fake blood that looked real and smelled real. He convinced himself that tricksters could even simulate Rigor Mortis. Every sign that Aio was really, truly, dead was instantly refuted.

  “Give it up, Battle Mage. He's dead.”

  Eric glared daggers at the merchant. “TRICKSTER! HE'S A TRICKSTER, YOU IDIOT!” Anuzat backed away as if the mage were a rabid beast. “But he's not going to trick me! Not this time! Oh no, I'm on to him. Any second now, he's going to give up this 'playing dead' routine. Any second now. He's too hyperactive to hold still for long. He's gonna twitch or budge and then I'll have him!”

  “Uh . . . Battle Mage . . .” Anuzat said cautiously. “I don't think he's—”

  “ANY SECOND NOW! I lived with him for two months! I know him better than you!”

  Seconds passed and then minutes. A full two hours after Eric's declaration, the only thing Aio's body had done was get ever colder. He broke down and cried on the friend he finally accepted as dead.

  Meanwhile, Nolien was hard at work. The petrification, the flight, and now critical aid pushed him to his limits. He was sweating, panting, and pale faced. His eyes drooped and his staff flickered.

  “Tenderfoot, are you okay?”

  Nolien shook his head and blinked. “Yeah . . . I'm . . . fine.” His healing light flickered rapidly.

  “Are you s . . .” The light dimmed. “You're running out of mana!”

  “Of . . . course not.” His healing light cut off entirely and he had to shake his staff to get it glowing again. Tiza growled, grabbed his hands, and pried them off the staff.

  “Stop it! You're draining yourself!” Nolien tried to pull his hands out of Tiza's grip and failed. She grinned. “Fighter.”