A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos)

by Wilkerson, Brian

  Eric dismissed the darkness. “No matter how fast you learn you still need to practice.” The mist eagerly coiled in his hand. No spell had been easier to learn than the dark bolt.

  “I know and I do.”

  “And it's possible to over-practice, which is dangerous for your health.”

  Kasile rolled her eyes. “I thought my father was at the Common Council.” Despite the insult, Eric was happy. She would never be this casual in public.

  “Very funny.”

  The Forth Challenge was more to Eric's liking: monster fighting. The breeds were preselected to resist brute force and require tactics. Naturally, tactical magecraft was taught at the academy.

  Soldiers rolled their cages to the arena. These were replacements for the last batch which escaped a month ago and were last seen at the opening Joust, dead and rotting. Selen Esrah, Duke of Esrah, led the investigation and his wife personally captured the next batch in time for the challenge.

  Eric chose a moderate monster: if he lost, he would be expelled from the tournament, but a monster too weak could cost him his lead. In the end, it didn't matter because Darwoss chose one for him and it was the most powerful of the lot. It was also one that Dengel had in-depth knowledge of: Romast had venom glands near its throat that could kill it if they were pierced in the right way. Even as it lay twitching, it poisoned him.

  This was the fourth challenge Eric won thanks to Dengel. His own merits counted for nothing in the first three and though his training kept him alive in the fourth it was Dengel's mind that kept him from losing. He was a puppet taking orders. In his mind, Getis shouted “Cheater” over and over again.

  The doors to the arena slid open and Kasile sauntered past, chatting with Duke Selen. The novice mage activated his Magic Hearing and discovered the duke warning the princess about an ambassador from Ceiha.

  The island nation of Ceiha was the most intriguing part of his nine-day library stay. Because of a long story at the dawn of the Avatar Alliance, mana didn't flow to the island and as a result, no one living there could use magic. It was the only region on the planet with this affliction so going there was like going to another world. Eric felt her skin scrawl just thinking about the place. When she was finished talking with her adviser she greeted her tutor.

  In the Dragon's Lair, he watched her demonstrate the final concealment spells he himself knew. She learned them all in a matter of days. It was enough to make him think she was self-taught until this point. “Today I'll teach you Magic Sight.”

  The Fifth Challenge of the New Scepter Magic Competition was Eric's favorite. It suited his tastes as a practical mercenary and played to his experience. In other words, old-fashioned fighting.

  The Castle Stadium was a dome-like building a stone’s throw from the castle itself. Salamander statues stood guard at the entrance and phoenix flew across the walls. As the crowd entered the stadium, they passed statues of warriors and paintings of battles. Above them, a golden sign declared, “Hall of Honor: for those whose flame burns strong and true.”

  Like the rest of the building, the bleachers were fire themed; the white seats were the front row and red the nosebleed section. The sandy ground crunched under Eric's shoes. Three feet above the sand were iron railings bearing protection runes. The arena itself was white marble and raised five feet off the ground. Stairs on all sides led to the site of combat.

  Eric figured Darwoss set the matches up so he'd fight Kallen in the first round to ensure his defeat. Luckily for him, the drawings were randomized and he faced an ordinary female student. Despite his experience with tough girls: his teammate, the guild officers, Kasile, he had trouble bringing himself to hit one. While he hesitated, she fired a mana bolt. He overcame his inhibitions and deflected it. It beaned her in the head and she fell flat on her back.

  All the students were like that. They were smart and powerful, but lacked experience. When faced with someone who survived mana storms or monster dens they were routed. Every match until the semi-finals ended as soon as it started if the name “Eric Watley” or “Kallen Selios” was drawn.

  There Eric saw a familiar face. It had long silver hair, a feminine face, and hateful eyes. This same face mistook him as a waiter and a cheater, but now it saw Eric as he truly was; a foe.

  “I was hoping for a chance to fight you,” Getis declared. “I'll prove you don't belong here.”

  “Sure you will.” With so many victories, it was hard not to feel confident.

  “Getis Darwoss vs. Eric Watley. Begin!”

  “You may have the first move, Mr. Mercenary. I insist.”

  Eric shrugged and fired a mana sphere. There was enough willpower behind this one to transform it into a blue blur. Getis didn't move. His staff hung limply in his sash. When the mana sphere approached, he swung his right hand in a small arc and caught the sphere. Then, with the same motion, he threw it back at Eric.

  The mercenary deflected it with ease, but the second caught him off guard. Getis had fired a mana sphere from his left hand immediately following the return by his right. This second sphere cut clean through Eric's barrier and nailed him in chest.

  “There you have it; I overcame your defenses with a simple one-two punch.” Getis mimed taking out and reading a book. “The instant a projectile hits a barrier the surface ripples from the shock of impact and if a second, stronger, projectile hits that same area within two seconds of the impact of the first then the likelihood of the barrier shattering increases dramatically. You would have known that if you were a student of the Royal Academy of Magical Learning.”

  With his own staff, he drew a rune in the air. It was precisely three meters long and three wide; invoking one god or another and describing the routines necessary for the spell's power and execution. Eric ran over and smacked him. Getis fell sideways, stunned.

  “That's how we do it at the Mercenary Academy.”

  Grasping his side, Getis shouted, “How did—? You should be incapacitated for at least a minute after a hit like that. It cramped your solar plexus!”

  Eric leaned forward with a grin. “Your professors didn't teach you Fighting Spirit did they? It was my mentor's first lesson.”

  “Pon Zi juq hu!”

  Eric leaned back. “What's th GAAAH!”

  Getis' incomplete rune discharged its power into him and the pain it caused was far worse than any mana bolt. It distracted him long enough for Getis to scramble to his feet and fire a second mana bolt at point blank. Eric skidded several feet before stopping himself.

  “Your mentor never taught you the art of air rune construction, their utilization, or how to complete them with words in the ancient language of the phoenixans. He is a thug. A two-bit ha-- . . .”

  He trailed off. His eyes dilated. His breathing stopped. His entire body froze.

  Eric glared. “No one insults my mentor.”

  “Watley!” Darwoss shouted. “Release my son or I will disqualify you!”

  Eric blinked and Getis shivered.

  “Evil Eye . . .” he said in a tone reserved for nightmares. “Only a Mercenary would—”

  Eric fired a gust of wind, but Getis parted it and shot a fireball the size of a mini-fridge. Eric countered with a waterball and the resulting steam enshrouded the arena. Marble cracked and broke free as Getis chanted a rockball and threw it at Eric. The mercenary blew it away along with the steam. The two mages Rock-Paper-Scissored through all ten elements and back to fire. This time Eric simply dodged and cast a rock spell between his legs. The noble screamed extra girly.

  “You . . .you . . .dare . . .”

  “Mercenary.” Eric pushed his staff head into Getis' chest. “This battle is a bore . . .” Air currents gathered on the point of his staff. “Show him the door! Wind Hand!” The air currents formed a ethereal hand that pushed Getis out of the arena. Eric was so elated he couldn't resist a one-liner. “Leave the battlefield to the professionals, schoolboy.”

  “Winner, Eric Watley.” Getis staggered to the blea
chers and Kallen took his place. “This is the final match: Eric Watley vs. Kallen Selios. Begin!”

  Instantly, Eric sailed from the arena. He reached the exit before Getis.

  “Kallen Selios wins the Fourth Challenge. She and Eric Watley will take part in the Final Challenge tomorrow at three o'clock.”

  Kallen jumped off the arena and landed at Eric's side. Speeding through a chant, she summoned healing light. “There you go, all patched up.”

  “Thanks, but did you really have beat me that badly? It was embarrassing.”

  Kallen shrugged. “Do you want me to treat you like an inferior or an equal?”

  Eric blushed. “You . . .You think we're equal?”

  Kallen helped him up. “Not yet, but you will be.”

  “I will?”

  “By this time next year, you'll be as powerful as I am.”

  Eric groaned at the “good” news. “I should've known you were joking. There's no way I could get that strong in a year . . . Raising my hopes like that . . .”

  “Well, I might have exaggerated just a bit, but you will make a lot of progress.”

  “How'd you do it? Maybe I can do that.”

  Kallen turned away coyly. “Oh no, I don't think you'd want to.”

  “Is it some kind of Training from Abyss?”

  She turned back and smiled. “Nope! Just ask Tasio.”

  Eric felt a sense of impending doom. “I . . . already did that.”

  “There you go. Your life will be so interesting you'll become as strong as I am just keeping up.”

  Eric groaned even more despondently. “Is that what happened to you?”

  “Mm-hmm. I was at the right place at the right time.” She tilted her head. “Or the wrong place at the wrong time. I can go either way, depending on my mood.”

  “ . . .uh . . .um . . .was it . . .uh . . .?”

  Suddenly solemn, she finished, “The Siduban Chaos Explosion. I'll tell you about it sometime.” She walked off. “Good luck tomorrow. May the best woman win.”

  Eric decided to ignore that last comment and go home; his bed was calling him. He pulled a drink out of his mini-fridge and lay down for a well-deserved nap. However, when he closed his eyes, he didn't see Annala the Maid, but the throne room of Roalt's castle.

  Majestic banners of Noble Houses hung from the ceiling and circled the room to center on the one above the throne; the royal seal. In the four corners were ornamental pillars honoring the Houses of Ataidar, Heleti, Esrah, and Stratos. They were the least of the decoration.

  The four directions were painted proclamations of the nation's history. The ceiling showed countless people bowing to a woman robed in fire with the sun at her back. The floor showed the same woman breathing new life into corpses. The left wall showed a Tiger joining paws with a Dragon, a Shark, and a Chameleon against a war-torn background. On the right wall, a kingly figure sat at a table with demons of all shapes and sizes.

  Kasile stood at the room's entrance with soldiers at her back. Her father sat at his throne and the Ceihan ambassador at a table for guests. Both of them, which were surrounded by more soldiers.

  “You thought you could get away with it, didn't you?” Kasile taunted. “Your plan ends here. My Magic Sight revealed your deception. I can see the rune you're using to control my father!”

  She didn't wait for me!

  “I've noticed your preparations,” Kasile continued. “Most of the senior guards are away training new recruits and for the first time in decades all high ranking members of the Dragon's Lair have been hired out at the same time. Instead, I see your escort patrolling the palace as if they owned it and they're using those outdated weapons Ceiha produces.”

  She carefully pulled a wire cutter out of her pocket with a gloved hand. “These were the tools that let the monsters loose during the Joust a month and a half ago. They were used by the people tasked with guarding them; I know because their fingerprints are smeared all over the handle. After the Joust, both disappeared without a trace. The cages were specially made to prevent the monsters from chewing through them so why would guards need tools to break those cages? The answer is on the handle, 'Made in Ceiha.' If I hadn't been kidnapped, I might have been killed by those monsters.”

  She waltzed over to the ambassador’s table and leaned on it, starring him in the face. “The remaining castle soldiers and the guards of House Esrah have apprehended all of your 'escorts.'” Eric could feel the triumph on her face. “You tried to extort my country. Be more subtle next time.”

  She promised! This is just like last time! . . .. Well, she seems to have it under control . . .

  The ambassador didn't look scared. Instead, he clapped. Kasile's confidence faded into confusion. “Your daughter is quite the detective, sire. She gathered all those facts and put them together in very a creative way. It's such a shame that she is incorrect.”

  He took a sip of tea before continuing. “The soldiers are on a legitimate training exercise. There were so many new recruits, mostly thanks to you princess, that more instructors were needed. Since the castle is currently understaffed, I offered my personal guard to fill in the gaps. As for the Dragon's Lair, your speech inspired others to hire them.”

  Kasile's confusion faded into horrible realization.

  “About the monster guards . . .” the ambassador continued. “It should be no surprise that they vanished without a trace; they were eaten, clothing and all. Simply because those wire cutters were made by my country doesn't mean we were behind the release of the monsters. I heard it was the Black Cloaks themselves because the monsters provided an excellent distraction.”

  The ambassador adjusted his glasses.

  “Finally, you have misunderstood the circumstances of our meeting. Your father and I thought it best, in the name of efficiency, to explain our positions one at a time. Just now, we were discussing what Ceiha will do for Ataidar in exchange for those concessions weren't we, Your Majesty?”

  The king nodded. More color drained from Kasile's face.

  “While we are playing detective, I would like a turn. You frequent the Dragon's Lair very often as of late, don't you, princess? I believe it has been for lessons, correct? Lessons in the art of hand-to-hand combat as well as magecraft. However, they have been teaching you more than that, haven't they? Lessons about their philosophy, how they do things, and perhaps, how they think things should be?”

  Kasile backed away as if in retreat. Her back hit the line of soldiers and they didn't budge.

  “You've hired the Dragon's Lair for more than lessons, am I right? You've often hired a 'Culmus' and I hear you are quite close. In fact, I believe he is your boyfriend. A stunning choice since the second duke of Esrah, a young man with greater courage, devotion, and overall competence as future-king, held that distinction until recently. Then there's another mercenary, an 'Eric Watley,' who seems to follow you everywhere, like a paid shadow. He was there when you were first kidnapped and he was there to rescue you from the rogue's hideout—his reason for finding you was rather suspicious by the way—and finally, he is your newest political puppet. Or so the public thinks.”

  The ambassador stood up and circled Kasile. “The mercenaries have profited a great deal since you were kidnapped. So many jobs coming in because of your endorsement and one of their own has made it to the final round of a prestigious magic competition-his performance has been miraculous-and lastly, their PR gained a generous boost from your report that Eric and Culmus were not hired to rescue you nor received any reward. Most suspicious of all is the slaying of a prominent citizen whose murderer not only walks free, but participates in this contest.”

  The ambassador looked down on Kasile. She stared back bravely, but Eric could feel the fear and doubt she tried desperately to hide. “I cannot for the life of me reason out this sudden and close relationship between the princess and the mercenaries . . .Oh yes . . .there is one possible explanation.” He turned to the king. “Your Majesty, it is with my deepest regre
t that I give you this terrible news: your daughter has been brainwashed by the Dragon's Cult.”

  I do not blame him, Dengel said. You hardly make yourselves out as respectable.

  “The princess is an unofficial member of this cult and they have used her to achieve their own ends. The incident at the Joust, your daughter's kidnapping and rescue, and their subsequent popularizing, are a power play on Your Majesty's government. To stack the deck further in their favor, they set their royal puppet on me as if I were the bad guy. Surely Your Majesty knows what this means.”

  The king pointed his scepter at his daughter. “Guards, arrest that traitor!” The soldiers Kasile rallied swarmed her instead. She was in too much shock to resist.

  Eric wanted to say something, but didn't know what. The king didn't say a word, but his steep frown said plenty. Fortunately, the Ceiha ambassador didn't say anything more. He had said enough, in Eric's opinion. His story was ridiculous and he was going to tell the king just that . . .until Dengel pointed out that he was the last person the king would listen to.

  There's gotta be something we can do! We have to help her!

  Do you know Kasile? Because if you did, then you would know that she is beyond saving. Her life is centered on serving Ataidar and now she can no longer pursue that goal.

  Someone knocked on the door. Groaning, Eric marched to it; he didn't have time for some random guest! He looked through the peephole, and his blood ran cold.

  Soldiers were on his doorstep. They wore full armor and carried lances and short swords. One of them stepped forward and said, “We are the Ataidar Royal Guard Section 3: Sedition Prevention Division.” They flashed a badge. “Are you Eric Watley?”

  Eric backed away, shook his head, and rubbed his eyes. It made sense that they were here, the ambassador—How did they get here so quickly?!

  “Mr. Watley, we have a warrant for your arrest. Please come quietly or we will use force.”

  Eric looked frantically for another exit but there was none. This building was supposed to be a bridge not a house. This is what I get for choosing cheap rent!