A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos)

by Wilkerson, Brian

  Rubbing his sides, Eric sat up and reached for the healing scroll. Though a comprehensive list of injuries was too complicated for a single scroll, particularly one he could afford, this one was made to treat small common injuries. He located the text for “bruise” and activated it. His ribs weren't literally bruised, but he hoped it would at least take the pain away.

  Minutes later, he could breathe without pain or difficulty. Whether this was because he was healed or on a magical painkiller, he didn't know. At the moment, he didn't care. He'd ask Nolien later. After putting the scroll away and making sure he had all his tools, he returned to the pedestal.

  So that is the extent of your resolve.

  Or maybe it is just your will to live.

  Regardless,

  It is enough.

  Stones scraped against stones and an ancient mechanism groaned. The base of the pedestal shifted, revealing a spiral staircase. I hope this is it.

  Down and down, and further down he descended. Mason-made blocks gave way to eroded blocks and then strangely shaped boulders. He took it as a good sign: less construction meant a smaller chance of traps. Then again, the lack of construction could be a ploy to lure raiders into dropping their guard. He held his staff before him and tapped each step before he put his weight on it.

  Basilard taught his students to stay alert at all times, even in their own territory. He proved this by popping in at their respective homes and firing mana bolts. Eric didn't do well at that test, neither did Nolien, but Tiza caught him a fair number of times. Nolien remarked that, as a former thief, she must be accustomed to looking over her shoulder. Tiza was flattered, but refused to admit it and instead made a crack about his carelessness.

  The bottom of the stairs led to a wider room. Although the walls and ceiling were made of compressed earth, they appeared to be made of gold. Eric stood at the entrance of a treasure room!

  Gold coins and cups covered the floor and gold dresses and weapons hung on the walls. Crowns and armor and scepters; all gold. The room shined with it. Eric had to rub his eyes after being in semi-darkness for so long. He walked slowly to soak in the splendor of it all. I've never seen so much gold . . . if I fill my pack I'll be set for life!

  He knelt at a cluster, unshouldered his pack, and reached for the shining, glittering gold. No . . . His hand, millimeters above the immense wealth, hovered in midair . . . I shouldn't. I'm only supposed to take one thing to prove I was here. The rest belongs to Kyraa.

  The coins would prove nothing. The gold armor and weapons would be cumbersome. Then his gaze fell upon the gold dresses. He thought of how beautiful Annala would look in one. He could just see it: the golden-haired elf with her radiant smile . . . twirling in one of these dresses . . .

  Eric shook his head. I'm doing it again. Annala's my friend, I shouldn't think about her like that . . . she's really pretty . . . she's my friend! He shook his head again. The dress would prove I came. He gently folded it and placed it in his pack.

  It wasn't until after he returned to the Pedestal Room that he remembered he was trapped. He fought down his panic and decided the best thing to do was look for an exit. He started with the pedestal. It was blank; not even the text from before remained. Eric figured it was waiting for him to show what he was taking. He arranged the gold dress at the pedestal's base.

  So that's your prize.

  I didn't know you were into that.

  Eric blushed. “I'm not! It's for a friend!” He blushed harder. “Just a friend! Really!“

  Hahahahaha!

  I believe you.

  Go back to your 'friend.'

  Hahahaahahaha!

  Eric never felt he could he resent a pedestal.

  I'd hurry if I were you.

  He didn't see the text until after he heard the rumbling. It started with the outside rim and crawled inwards. It picked up speed as it came. Eric reached for a scroll, but stopped in mid-reach. The rumbling closed in and he saw what was causing it; a collapsing floor.

  At first, he didn't worry. Below was a treasure room, not a bottomless pit. However, he underestimated the length of the stairs and the height of the fall. Instead of beautiful, the sea of gold was terrifying.

  Yanking out his grappling hook, he spun it in place with the crumbling floor racing ever closer. He cast his lifeline to the crystal overhead and it caught among the green arms. Without time to check if it was secure, he pushed off the pedestal base.

  Seconds later the crumbling reached the pedestal itself. It fell to the sea of gold and smashed to pieces. Eric gulped and scurried up his rope to the crystal's arm. And now I'm stuck up here. It's better than dying but if I stay up here I'll die anyway. How do I—

  Crack.

  Eric crawled to the center, but the cracks were faster. They raced past him and severed the crystal's limb. It fell from the main structure into empty space and doomed Eric to a fatal fall; o r it would have if the gold dress hadn't caught on a lower limb. How the dress came out of his pack, remained attached to it, and tangled in crystal, Eric had no idea. All he felt was a sharp tug.

  Then, everything went black. He was still conscious; it was the world going black. Everything from the crystal, the dress, to the treasure room faded into darkness. Then Eric fell up. It was the strangest sensation; to free fall in reverse. When he could see again, he was standing on the Altar of Rebirth's ninth stair from the bottom.

  He blinked and pinched himself to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. He unshouldered his pack and looked for his scrolls and grappling hook; all gone. So it wasn't a dream. Unfortunately, so was the gold dress. All that and I have nothing to . . .What's this?

  A crystal.

  A clear crystal the size of his open palm, but the width of his closed palm and shaped like an arrowhead. Where'd this come from? Eric turned the crystal over in his hands. It was fairly unremarkable, but it was the proof that Eric had gone somewhere. I might as well show her this.

  Despite the fact that he'd been gone for half a day, the old healer was in the same position he left her; holding the jar of Aio ashes.

  “What did you bring me?”

  Eric handed her the crystal. The healer examined it and asked him why he chose it out of all the other treasures. He told her about his adventure.

  “I see . . .” The old healer smiled widely. “I am happy to say that you have proven yourself. I would be glad to give you the power of Dengel.”

  She placed the crystal in her pocket and spun to the back of her tent. Eric heard her rummaging through a bag and clinking glass bottles. Finally, she gave him one. It was a clear blue bottle with glowing grey goo inside.

  “Drink this and you will be the same as Dengel.”

  Eric stared at the bottle for a solid minute, savoring the moment. With this, I can rescue Kasile! I'll keep my promise! I'll protect my friends! He popped the stopper and chugged.

  It was like swallowing molasses; the grey slime slowly oozed down his throat. He thought he would choke but restrained himself. He couldn't afford to waste a drop. Slowly, slowly, it entered his system. It reached his stomach and went deeper. It reached his mind and went deeper still.

  Where am I!? A voice within his head demanded. What is this place!?

  This is my head. He was used to hearing voices but only Kasile's. This voice was neither feminine nor beautiful but masculine and arrogant. Who are you?

  Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Greater Mage who sacked nations. I am the Sage who codified the art of Magecraft. I am the Scholar to whom all others are students. I am Dengel Tymh.

  Chapter 12 The Beginning of a Beautiful Partnership

  Surely you have heard of me.

  I sleep with your book at my bedside!

  Which one?

  Introduction to Magecraft. I'm at ‘Chapter 3: Elemental Magic.’

  Hmm. It seems you read ahead. There are signs of major strain . . . you tried elemental fusion, did you not? You maintained it for an extended period of time.

 
Yeah I . . . but it saved my team!

  The healer watched in amusement as the young boy carried on a conversation only he could hear. She took another sip from her cup while waiting for it to finish.

  That does not change the fact that you injured yourself. The most dangerous situation for a mage is to lose their magecraft and that is precisely what has happened to you!

  But . . . I saved my team . . .

  Then they had to save you. New mages should never attempt elemental fusion. Too many students cripple themselves from trying spells they weren't ready for. He sighed wearily. I will simply have to fix you, just like the rest of them.

  A chiropractor realigned his brain and worked out kinks in his soul: a few jolts of pain followed by a great release of pressure. Try it now.

  Eric cupped his hands. “Crimson fire . . .” A flame sparked into life; it warmed his heart. He finished with confidence. “Grant my desire! Fireball!” The flame roared and filled his hands.

  He missed this; it validated him. It was something he could do that others couldn't; something they relied on scrolls for. While useful, they were nothing like the real thing.

  “Be careful,” the healer said. “I don't want my tent burning down.”

  Eric grinned ear-to-ear. “I can do magic again!”

  “I'm glad to hear it. Now please, it's getting a little too warm in here.”

  “Oh . . . Of course.” Eric clapped his hands together and extinguished the flame.

  “Are you satisfied with what I have given you?”

  In his head was one of the greatest mages in history! “Oh yes!”

  “Good, now pay close attention. There are rules concerning possession that you should know. Firstly: You are in charge. Dengel is a powerful spirit, but that is still your body. You are the landlord and Dengel is the tenant; he can't tell you what to do.” Eric nodded.

  “Second: Dengel cannot use your body for anything without your approval. A tenant cannot make significant changes to their room without the landlord's say so.” Eric nodded again.

  “Third: You can banish Dengel if you have reason to do so or he may leave on his own. A tenant that commits a serious offense can be evicted.” Eric nodded a third time.

  “Fourth: all of the above are invalid if you do not enforce them.”

  Eric paused mid nod. “You mean Dengel doesn't have to obey the rules?”

  The old female demon's eyes twinkled. “Our universe is based on chaos and thus free will. No one is compelled to do anything they don't want to. Dengel is a free spirit. He might commit mischief if you do not keep an eye on him.”

  Do not worry. I will behave myself.

  The old healer grabbed Eric's chin. “Pay attention because this most important. Never give him full control over your body. He might not give it back.”

  Eric had locked himself out of his apartment before but that was an inconvenience. It was nothing compared to being locked out of his body. It would be the ultimate identity thief.

  The healer offered the jar of Aio's ashes and Eric took it in both hands. “One more thing: do not mention this to anyone. I don't want to be known as 'One who gives the souls of greater mages.' I'm an old woman and I want peace and quiet. That would never happen if young ones constantly asked for spirits. You understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. I won't tell anyone. I promise.”

  He tugged on Aio's jar but the old woman's grip was firm. “Not even me? If you ever mention it, I'll pretend I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Not even you.”

  The old healer finally let go. “Good.”

  Eric screwed the lid tight. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Eric shrugged; he heard mystic type were like that.

  I do not mean to interrupt, but who is that on the floor?

  That's the sergeant of my squad. He was injured when we crossed the Yacian Caverns.

  That cannot be. There is nothing strong enough in there to severely injury a sergeant.

  My teammate said the xethras 'pooled their spiritual power.'

  Soul Union! Eric clapped his hands to his ears to drown out Dengel's shout of joy. It didn't help of course. I KNEW it was possible! All those fools said I was delusional! . . .Do you have any proof!? Eric shook his head and felt great disappointment. Oh no matter. I can wake him up.

  Really?

  Yes, of course. Pull that book out of his pocket.

  Eric grabbed the edge that stuck out and gently pulled. Basilard's hand flew to his wrist. It scared him half to death. Basilard's eyes were still closed and his chest still rose and fell.

  Now chant the fire spell.

  “C-crimson fire, g-grant-”

  “Don't you dare,” Basilard mumbled. His free hand rubbed his eyes and he sat up. “Where am I?” His gaze drifted to his hand. “Why are you holding my book?”

  “I . . .curious! Yeah, I was curious what you were reading all the time.”

  Eric's mentor removed the dirty book from his grasp and pushed it deeper into his own pocket. “It's too mature for you. I'll let you see it once you've landed the elf girl.” Landed!? “Now tell me what happened since those xethras attacked.”

  Blushing and stammering, Eric told him everything except his adventure to get Dengel's spirit (because he promised) and how Tiza used that soft voice of hers to lull Nolien to sleep (because he wanted to live). Basilard gave him a slap on the back for his light spell.

  “That kind of improvisation is exactly what Mercenary Magic all about!”

  Eric was proud of that moment, but felt guilty savoring it. He shouldn't feel proud of something that was required of him, but it was all right if such an authority said it was okay.

  “I'm sorry to hear about Aio. We'll have a proper burial for him when we get back to the guild.”

  “I blessed his ashes,” the old healer said.

  Basilard did a double take. “Oh! Well in that case . . . Eric . . .you should hold onto them.”

  Eric blinked. “I should? What about his family?”

  “I'll look into it,” Basilard said firmly. “Until you should keep them.”

  “Okay . . . if you insist.”

  “In place of a burial I'll have a drinking match with Death. So where's everyone else?”

  Did he just say 'drinking match with Death'? “ . . . Uh . . .Nolien's—”

  “Sleeping,” the old healer cut in.

  “Oh, and Tiza's—”

  “Dreaming.”

  Eric scowled at the healer. “And you are—”

  The healer smiled and said nothing.

  Basilard stood and stretched. “Eric, how do you feel about a lesson?”

  Suddenly, Eric realized how tired he was and excused himself. Do you sleep?

  As I have no body, I have no need. However, I assume I could if I so wished.

  Basilard bowed his head to the healer. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  The healer returned it. “No, thank you for yours.”

  Eric detected a second conversation somewhere in there, but was too tired to figure it out. He walked to the Inn while Basilard wandered off. The last time I was here, this place was still under construction. It has not changed since then.

  Oh yeah, the healer said you came here when you were my age for lessons.

  I learned from them when I was young and ignorant. Now I stand far above them.

  Yawning, he entered the inn and the keeper called him. In his hands was a sandwich and a glass of juice. “Miss Tiza saved these for you.” Eric gladly accepted them. He had no idea Tiza could be so thoughtful . . . “I also have a message from her: 'You better pay me back, Dimwit, or else!' That is all.”

  Eric sighed, suddenly a great deal wearier.

  This 'Tiza' sounds like a handful.

  You don't know the half of it. He ate the sandwich on the stairs.

  I myself traveled with a . . . never mind.

  Long story? He swigged the juice.

  Inside their room,
Tiza was sprawled with her sheets in tumult. Her mouth was open and drool dripped. Even in her sleep, she's the opposite of feminine. Nolien, surprisingly, was just as bad. As interesting as this was, Eric was too tired to care. He collapsed on his bed and was instantly asleep.

  He awoke to much shaking. “Get up, Dimwit!”

  “Go away . . . Sleepy.”

  “We're leaving! Get up!” Eric was yanked off and dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

  To avoid that you should use the blankets to anchor yourself to the bedpost.

  This has happened to you before.

  You would be amazed what you learn on the road.

  Though tired, Eric rubbed his eyes and stood up. What he saw outside the window explained his weariness-it was still night! Why the abyss did Tiza wake me up so early?

  The fighter was tapping her foot impatiently. “Get ready to leave, Dimwit. Money Stomper wants to be gone within the hour.”

  “But it's . . .” Eric yawned. “ . . . still night.”

  “Yes, it is. You've been in that bed since last night.”

  “What!? Really!?“

  Tiza raised an eyebrow.” What's with you, Dimwit? Out late?”

  “Yeah, I was at the shrine . . .” Eric caught himself just in time. “ . . .star gazing.”

  The fighter shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Eric gathered up his things, grabbed his pack, and followed Tiza to the Inn's mess hall where Nolien and Basilard were already eating.

  “Where's Anuzat?” Eric asked.

  Basilard paused his sucking of a steel colored drum stick to answer. “Resupplying.”

  Nolien ate with refinement as always. Tiza, sitting next to him, shoved food in her mouth with her bare hands. Eric sat on his other side. Their plates clean, they left the inn and the chilly night air helped Eric wake up. Tej was waiting for them at the West Gate with a hand over his heart.

  “Oh, my scorpion. The next time I see a mana storm, I will pray it heralds your arrival.”

  “The next time I see a mana storm, I'm gonna throw you in it.”

  He stepped closer. “Then can I have a goodbye kiss?”