A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos)

by Wilkerson, Brian

  He stared back at her. “Healer. Now let me heal.”

  They held each other's gaze; Nolien tugging on his hands and Tiza tightening her hold with each tug. Finally, Tiza dropped her head and groaned. She inhaled, locked his eyes, and smiled.

  “Nolien, you have to rest.” Nolien's comeback was lost in his throat. Tiza's voice was so much softer, almost gentle. “Please, Tenderfoot, you've earned it.” He almost liked that silly nickname when she said it like that. Tiza moved into a kneeling position and pulled Nolien's head to her lap. “Daylra is stable now,” she cooed. “You've done a great job.”

  “But—” Nolien protested as he tried, half-heatedly, to get up.

  “Relax.” Nolien let out a breath and closed his eyes.

  “He could have done it . . . easily . . .”

  “No better than you did. Sweet dreams.”

  Eric was so surprised to hear a sweet voice in this nightmare, he tore himself from Aio's corpse. His surprise skyrocketed when he found out it came from Tiza. He thought he was hallucinating when she stroked Nolien's hair. When his breathing evened, her smile was replaced by a grimace.

  “Never again! He can go ahead and kill himself next time.” She noticed Eric and Anuzat staring and growled, “What are you looking at?!”

  Eric held up his hands in defense. “Nothing!”

  “Good! Then you'll have nothing to tell anyone! Ever!”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  They sat in the damp and dark cave. The darkness was so thick, visibility was the reach of their fire. It was as if the rest of the world did not exist. There was only Eric, Tiza, Anuzat, sleeping Nolien, injured Basilard, dead Aio, and their fire.

  The feeling made Eric paranoid. Every drip, creak, or crack could be the xethras. His heart would race and he would spin his staff in the direction of the sound, only to confront nothing. It was more a security blanket now than a weapon. He knew it was useless against the xethras, but it was all he had; he held it so tight his knuckles turned white. With Basilard unconscious and Nolien exhausted, he and Tiza wouldn't stand a chance. He could only hope the xethras didn't find them.

  It was the first time Eric wished to go back to his home world; his own Threa. The dangers he'd been in before were nothing like this. He was too busy panicking or planning against Laharg, the Cecri, and Dark Staff to think about anything else. Now, as he sat in the darkness, he wished he were snug in his bed in his safe apartment and monster-free world. It didn't matter that in Threa he was jobless, friendless, and soon to be homeless. At least he was safe. Is this Tasio's idea of helping me? Putting me out of my misery?

  “Sncagsraf.” Nolien snored.

  “Ahaaaaaa!” Eric cried.

  “Hahaha!” Tiza laughed.

  Eric stared in disbelief. “What's wrong with you!? Aren't you scared?”

  Tiza looked at him with the same disbelief. “Why should I be?”

  “Hello! We're stranded in a dark, damp, smelly cave, our sergeant is badly injured, we could be surrounded by C class, and you want to know why you should be scared!? You should be scared because we're gonna die! Die! Just like Aio! Stone cold dead! Like the stuff we're sitting on!”

  “You should stop screaming . . .” Tiza said deadpanned. “ . . .or you'll alert the xethras.” Eric's hands to flew to his mouth as his eyes widened. Tiza chuckled. “Relax, Dimwit. We'll be fine.”

  “And you know this because?”

  Tiza shrugged. “I just do. Would you rather I was a nervous wreck like you?” Eric dropped his head in shame. “Dimwit, look at me.” Eric tilted his head. “I'm not calming you like Tenderfoot. Forget it. But I will tell you the story of a mage who didn't think his team could handle a Cecri—”

  “Nolien did most of that . . .”

  “Don't interrupt me! But they killed it without getting a scratch in return. Or how about the story of the same mage who didn't think he and the fighter of his team could handle a band of kidnappers—”

  “It was two against one and we still almost lost . . .”

  “Are you gonna let me finish or not?!” Eric apologized and she continued. “And they succeeded in capturing one of them, thanks to the fighter's miraculous aura power.” Nolien snorted in his sleep and Tiza was tempted to swat him. She didn't because that would wake him up. “Once we get back to the guild, I'll tell you the story about how this mage and his team escorted a merchant safely through a deadly cave without their mentor's help.”

  “But we haven't done that yet.”

  “That's why I think we'll make it. Cause it's gonna make a great story to tell back home.”

  “I don't know whether to admire your confidence . . .” Anuzat said, “Or think you're crazy.”

  Tiza gave her a lopsided smile. “Daylra says all mercenaries are a little crazy; like chaos we overturn our own fortunes every day.”

  Chapter 9 Desert

  That night was most nerve wracking in Eric's life. Basilard's scry was crystal dust in his pocket. They were alone. No one was coming. By the time Mia realized anything was wrong, Team Four would be licked clean. Tiza coped by taking a whetting stone and sharpening her blade.

  “Go to sleep, Dimwit. If the xethras come, it won't matter if you're awake or not.”

  “That's not comforting!”

  “Cranky Client thought so.” Anuzat was asleep on her remaining merchandise.

  “That's because she thought we were standing guard!”

  Tiza chuckled. “Yeah, a pair of novices are gonna fight off a horde of C class that badly injured their sergeant. If you don't go to sleep, I'm knocking you out!”

  How could he sleep when Aio's body lay next to him? The cold lump of flesh used to be the bright-eyed and energetic form of his best friend. Something hard and hollow whacked him and Tiza's scabbard hovered over him. He lay down to appease her, but sleep was long in coming. His mind replayed the horrors he witnessed: The xethras’ slaughter, Basilard half dead, life drain from Aio's . . .

  He woke up to the smell of sizzling meat. He felt refreshed after his nap and the smell reminded him he hadn't eaten. He opened his eyes to see Nolien cooking over his floating fire.

  “You're pretty good with fire spells.”

  Eric sat up. “Thanks.”

  “Enough chit-chat,” Anuzat said. “How are you going to get me out of here?”

  “That's not our job,” Nolien said. He passed sandwiches to his teammates and client along with a bottle of water. “Our job is to guard you as you travel.”

  “That's right!” Tiza said smugly. She took a large bite from her sandwich and washed it down with a swig from her bottle. “You guide us out!”

  Anuzat grew angrier by the second so Eric added, “We'll guard you while you do that.”

  It pacified her, somewhat. She reached into her pouch, pulled out a map, and spread it out. “This isn't the right map . . .” Her paw dug in her pouch for a solid minute.

  “We're not picking a random direction,” Nolien said.

  Tiza huffed. “It worked last time.”

  “That was luck!”

  “Woman's intuition!”

  They glared briefly at each other before turning away; Nolien straightening his tunic and Tiza playing with her shield straps. Eric looked from one to the other and then to their client.

  “We'll figure something out.” Anuzat sighed. She doesn't believe me . . .I don't believe me.

  “If only I had better guards . . .” Anuzat put the map away. “My map wouldn't have been lost.”

  “Then you should have hired regulars or seniors,” Nolien said.

  “That would destroy my profit margin!” Anuzat protested.

  “Well, now you've destroyed your life!” Tiza mocked. How she could say that was beyond Eric. Anuzat slumped and sighed dejectedly. “Not so full of hot air now, are ya?”

  Eric jumped up. “That's it! Tiza, you're a genius!”

  “Well, of course I am,” Tiza said without missing a beat.

  Nolien shook hi
s head. “Eric, would you mind explaining why Tiza is a genius?”

  “Hot air! Hot air is going to get us out!”

  Tiza jerked her thumb in his direction. “I think our Dimwit's cracked.”

  The healer's posture was more thoughtful. “No, he may be on to something. Hot air—”

  “We can follow it up!”

  The battle mage was already working out the mechanics. Simple hot air wouldn't work; it would rise straight up and through the ceiling. He needed a verse that described hot air following caverns. It would have to be a combination of fire and wind . . . When he came to that conclusion, he grimaced.

  Wind was a slippery element and he had little practice. Fire meant he couldn't use his staff. If the four of them were as deep as he feared, he doubted his strength alone could power it long enough.

  “Nolien, do you mind if I use your staff?”

  Nolien shot him a look of confusion and disgust. Staves were sacred to their mages. By working together, they developed a spiritual bound. Old Man Aaloon was the definitive example: he pogoed on his staff as if it were his legs. This special relationship was so widely accepted that stealing a mage's staff was legally considered “kidnapping.”

  “I know I'm asking a lot, but I need to use it. I can't use my own because it has issues.” His staff pulsed in his hands. “Well, you do.”

  Nolien's eyes held a despairing depth. He knew it was the only way, but by the way his hands tightened and held his staff close to his body, he didn't want it to be. “I'm sorry, Eric . . . I can't.”

  Tiza swatted him. “We're lost and you'd rather hold onto your staff?!”

  “Would you mind giving him your sword?” Tiza's hand flew to cover her hilt. “I thought so.”

  Might as well try. “Crimson fire, grant my desire! Fireball!” Not even a spark. He put his staff down, spoke the verse again, and held a roaring fire.

  “Great . . .” Anuzat moaned. “I'm gonna die because my battle mage's staff is afraid of fire.”

  I'll have to do it without one . . . But first. “Who’s going to carry Basilard and Aio?”

  Even if Basilard was awake, Eric doubted he'd be able to move and he refused to let Aio rot or become food for monsters. He would gladly have carried his dearly departed friend but his job was to get them out. All his strength and willpower had to be focused on the spell.

  “I'll carry Basilard.” Tiza said. Silence answered her. “You don't think I can do it.”

  “Well . . . Basilard's a full grown man.” Nolien said uneasily. “You're—”

  “A girl?” she asked threateningly.

  “A child.”

  “Just let her carry him,” Anuzat groaned.

  “What about Aio?” Beat. Where's Aio?!”

  “We ate him while you were asleep,” Tiza said. “That was him on the fire.”

  Eric looked in horror at his sandwich and threw up. Which made Tiza laugh. Which made Nolien scold her for inappropriate humor. Which made Tiza snap at him for being unable to take a joke. Which made Anuzat grumble about immature bodyguards.

  “I really did put him in the fire. I figured ashes would be easier to transport.”

  She grabbed a jar from her pack and handed it to Eric. It wasn't even half full. This is all . . .all . . . that's left of Aio . . .Ricse. Fresh tears fell down his cheek and into the jar. He closed the bottle and placed it in his own pack. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

  Tiza rolled hers and said, “Yeah, the junkie thought ahead.”

  “Now that that's settled, can we move on to the more important matter of getting out of here?”

  “Working on it,” Eric said impatiently. He was steadily beginning to dislike her.

  He had the rhyme figured out, but that alone was nothing. If one didn't know what materials were needed or how to put them together, blueprints were useless. I'll use the fire and wind spells . . .best keep this simple . . .but I still might . . . He touched the jar. I won't screw up! After deciding how the spell would work, he spoke the fire verse again and transferred it to his right hand while holding his left one opened.

  “Free wind, your power please lend.” With a great deal of patience and concentration, the mage felt the mana in his hand change to moving air. Now for the hard part.

  Making elements work together was no easy feat. All his book said on the subject was that it was a matter best left to experienced mages who read his next volume, Intermediate Magecraft. I'll have to ignore that for now. The novice took another deep breath and began the spell.

  “We who are lost in the dark bellow, show us the way to go.” He held his hands palm up and side by side. “With your hot breath as our guide . . .” He slowly joined his two hands. The fire and wind swirled around each other. “. . .lead us to the great blue sky! Sky Seeker!” With all the willpower in his spirit, he launched the spell and the elements surged forward in a double helix.

  Scooping up his staff, he ran after it and Tiza was the first to dash after him, with Basilard on her back. “Do you think I spent my free time gossiping!?”

  The four followed the spell through tunnel after tunnel. Small creatures scurried out of its way. One didn't move fast enough and it was roasted by the double helix. Anuzat grabbed the corpse midhop and dropped it in her pouch.

  “I'm still hungry and I need to replace my lost merchandise. I can sell the fur and find gold.”

  “Gold?” Eric asked. The spell wavered.

  “FOCUS ON THE SPELL!”

  “Right!”

  Eric cleared his mind of all thoughts but the double helix. He shuddered to think what would happen to them if a C class noticed it. He supposed he could use the light spell again, but what if it wasn't the xethras? What if it's a creature that doesn't have eyes? Or some kind of black hole monster that eats light? The spell flickered and something hit his head. With a sheepish apology, he renewed his focus.

  It was like pushing a couch over shaggy carpet, only with his mind instead of arms and the couch tried to fall apart. Wind leaked through gaps in his concentration and fire burned it. Eventually, he didn't need to worry about distractions because his mind was too tired to wander. All he could think about was keeping the spell together and pushing it forwards. Eventually, he couldn't see the cave walls, Tiza next to him, or Nolien at his other side; the double helix consumed his entire vision. This is my purpose. It is why I exist. Keep the spell going. Keep the spell going. Keep the spell going.

  Eric tripped, but Anuzat hopped forward and caught him. He looked at the stranger with what he hoped was appreciation. He didn't know how to speak, but hoped he still knew how to look happy.

  “Spell!” Eric nodded; the spell was the only thing he remembered. He was horrified to see it fading. Precious! Precious mustn’t die! He poured all his remaining willpower and it flared into life. He sighed in relief and gently feed it.

  His legs were no longer moving but he was still moving forward; bounce, bounce bounce, up and down, up and down, up and down. It was weird, but he couldn't be bothered with such a meager thing because he had to keep his Precious alive.

  Feeding Precious was hard; the stuff was running out. Now that he thought about it, what did he feed Precious? He couldn't remember for the life of him. In fact, he couldn't remember anything before Precious. Nothing existed before Precious. Me and Precious came into existence at the same time and I've been taking care of Precious ever since. He didn't know how long “ever since” was; “a long time” was good enough. After all, it didn't matter how long he'd been taking care of Precious because it wasn't relevant to taking care of Precious.

  The world grew dark. It puzzled Eric because Precious burned bright as ever. Precious gave him light so why was the world getting dark? He had to feed Precious more of the stuff! There was no more stuff! Precious is going to die! In desperation, he reached for something—Pain!

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  “You know, for a greedy and self-centered hustler, you're all right.”

&nbs
p; “And for a foul-mouthed and over-confident brat, you are too.” He heard a ruffling of something and Tiza protesting playfully. What's going on?

  Eric opened his eyes. It was dark and very cold and he was laying in a bed of sand with a blanket over him. His body was heavy and his mind was fuzzy. He'd never felt this bad; not even when those four punks in high school beat him up.

  “So when the does the book say he'll wake up?” Tiza's hair was messier than usual.

  Eric heard pages shuffle and then Nolien's voice. “It varies, depending on the willpower of the mage, the intensity of the spell and its duration. Then there's the fact you knocked him out.”

  “You told me to! How long?”

  “Tomorrow morning. And you didn't seem to mind hitting him.”

  Eric tried to tell him he was awake but his tongue felt like it was bolted to the floor of his mouth and his lips sewn together. With nothing else to do, he went back to sleep. When he woke up again, the sun was up and blaring. He was so hot he pushed the blanket off and promptly noticed it was actually Anuzat's cloak. He suddenly felt ashamed of his growing resentment.

  Team Four was in a desert. The mountains were behind him while before him were endless fields of sun-baked sand. Basilard lay next to him. More of his wounds had closed up and color was returning to his face. His teammates and Anuzat were seated around a drowned fire. He tried to speak, but his throat was so dry he succeeded only in coughing.

  Nolien brought him a flask. “Don't drink too much.” Eric nodded and wetted his throat.

  “What happened? I can't remember anything after casting the spell.”

  “We think you had a mild case of Willpower Depletion.” Nolien said. “It's when a mage puts too much willpower into a spell over an extended period of time.”

  Eric blinked.

  “You went insane,” Tiza said simply. “The spell burst out of the cave and fell apart. Then you started glowing and shouting 'Precious!' You had this mad look in your eyes. I had to knock you out.”

  “Am I okay now?”

  “You should be,” Nolien said, “According to Sergeant Basilard's book . . .” He flushed. “Advanced Magecraft . . .all you needed was rest. Still, you should avoid using magic for a while.”