Kallen looked over her shoulder. “Awww, I'm flattered you think that highly of me.” Twiddling her fingers, she disappeared out the door.
Nolien stared. “Did she do all this for that? I thought she was worried about Eric, like us.”
“That's why you came? Ow!”
“Well, of course, Dimwit!” Tiza lowered her hand. “We're a team, comrades in arms, friends.” For just instant, her eyes were soft. “And friends don't let friends hog all the action!”
“She was terribly worried about you.” Nolien winced as Tiza punched his arm. “I was too.”
Eric's grin split his face. The three of them had endured the most mundane missions, the Yacian caverns, and the Kyraan desert. His teamwork with Tiza brought down an adult mage. Now they charged headlong into a palace coup solely because they thought he needed them. How could he have ever doubted them?
He grabbed them by the arms and pulled them into a big hug. In an instant, they embraced him in return. He had only been this happy twice since his parents died; the greater was meeting Kallen, but the first and fondest was a group hug with his school friends. This time it was his—
“Guild!” Eric shouted. “The soldiers raided it!”
“Unfortunately, yes. My father ordered a raid last night. I do not mean to be the bearer of bad news, and I hope you will forgive me, but I fear the Dragon's Lair no longer stands.”
With new urgency, the novices raced out of the hospital wing, out of the palace, and down the sunlight streets of the Purple Town of Royal Glory. Even Nolien kept pace as they burst out of the curtain wall. They didn't dare stop until they arrived at the Dragon's Lair.
The block was trashed and the guild's street cratered. The front door was smashed in just like the bridge house. They cautiously stepped over the broken wood, scattered glass, and warped stone towards the front desk.
Nothing had changed. None of the other doors had been broken. The mirror off to the side was still in one piece. The meeting table even had the morning's paper and a half-drank cup of coffee on it. Mia sat at her desk, as perky as ever.
“Heellooo! How are your summer jobs going?”
“Ah . . .Mia . . .” Eric said. “Wasn't the guild raided?”
Mia assumed a cute thinking pose. “Raided? Hmm . . .” She slammed her fist into her palm. “Oh yes! Soldiers in fancy armor came by last night after the officers left on business. I'll show you.”
Mia pushed a button on her keyboard. The lights dimmed and a screen lowered from the ceiling. She pushed a second button and the screen came to life. It showed the same kind of soldiers that arrested Eric breaking down the front door. In seconds, they surrounded Mia. When she said she was on the clock, one grabbed her thin arm.
“Come quietly or we will use force.”
“Please let go.” The soldier twisted her arms behind her back and handcuffed her. “Don't say I didn't warn you . . .” She continued in a singsong voice.
The soldiers marched Mia to the door and off screen. Seconds later, the novices heard a chorus of horrifying screams. Mia walked back into the lobby, alone and unscathed, and sat down at her desk. Reaching into her pocket dimension with cuffed hands, she pulled out a key chain. The video ended.
“And then I dyed their armor pink!” Mia said with a giggle. The novices were stunned silent. Mia went on to say that she'd called the castle inquiring about the raid, but didn't receive an answer. “Oh! I should call Basilard. He's been worried about you.”
Not a minute later, the doors slammed open and Eric was squeezed in the man's arms.
“You were that worried about me?”
“Don't be offended, Daylra,” Nolien said. “He asked the same of us.”
Basilard hugged tighter still. “Of course I was worried. Why wouldn't I be?”
“Uh . . .Well . . .I . . .” Eric was too ashamed to admit he believed the Dragon's Lair was a cult, so he changed the subject. “Daylra, is your brother a bandit?”
“Plas? Of course not. He's a land outlaw and a good one too. Didn't they teach you the difference between rogues and outlaws in school?” They did, but Eric wanted to continue the conversation so he shook his head. “Well, then. I'll teach you; it's my duty as your daylra.
“Outlaws enforce our laws but they don't live by them. They have their own. Rogues break one of these two and are therefore criminals.”
Basilard left out the history, culture, and rules of outlaws because he didn't feel like reciting such a long story, and the Alliance between the Outlaw Trifecta and Ataidar's Royal Family because that was even longer. What he did explain was that the designation “outlaw” was created at the Birth of the Avatar Alliance two thousand years ago. Queen Shalidthros enlisted bandits and others to repel forces invading “Ataidar” and later made them an official police force. In exchange, she legitimized their activities so long as they agreed to a code of conduct. The ones that accepted this code and captured those that didn't were called “outlaws”; those that live outside the common law and within their own.
To prove themselves as outlaws each wore a magic tattoo on the back of their left hand. This mark not only separated them from rogues, but from other outlaws, depending on which of the Outlaw Trifecta they served: the Bandit Empress, Pirate King, or Thief King. Any violation would automatically transform the mark into a black spot, which would signal their respective lord. As two of the three lords were also gods of nature and the final was married to one of them, black spots were guaranteed punishment according to their crime.
After his tale, Basilard told Eric something else he didn't know: Team Four had a mission and all three novices were late. He promised a “special” training session afterward and all, but Eric groaned. Compared to imprisonment in the castle dungeon, intense training sounded wonderful.
The guild had become so important to him it was the centerpiece of his Dengel-Trapping-Web. The first job he'd ever enjoyed, the first one he'd had friends, and it all started with the lobby and Mia the Mission Assigner. He never imagined himself a magical mercenary in college, but now that he was, he couldn't imagine anything else.
The next day, they were called back to the castle by its unofficial queen. On the way, Nolien was pooped on by the blue jay and the crane on their way to the next castle.
The castle staff had done an admirable job cleaning up the throne room. It almost didn't look like a battle had taken place the day before. If only for the lingering smell of blood and rotting meat . . . Kasile sat on the throne looking as regal as ever despite the fact that she wore the armor from yesterday. The hole was still there.
“Welcome, Team Four. I summoned you because you ran off without your reward.”
“I want gold so I can buy better equipment,” Tiza said.
“I domph.” Tiza's elbow cut Nolien off. “I mean . . .ditto.“
“I'm not sure,” Eric said.
“Then I will keep yours in reserve,” Kasile said. “On a related note, there is one thing I can give you now.” She gestured an attendant forward. “The trophy for the New Scepter Competition.”
On a pillow carried by the attendant was a statue as big as her forearm. It was made of orichalcum and inscribed with the winner's name and the date. The attendant presented it to Eric who looked at Kasile in confusion.
“What about the final event?”
“Ms. Selios forfeited. She said you deserve it more,” Kasile explained, then cracked a smile. “And she refuses to leave the Royal Archives. Take your prize, Mr. Watley.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Eric placed the elegant trophy on the mantle above his bed next to the jar of Aio's ashes. It looked out of place with his simpler treasures, but it went very well with his new door. Kasile ordered it fixed, free of charge. Then she made it stronger with higher quality material and reinforced with wards to prevent anyone from breaking in again. Similar runes were added on the inside to strengthen the house further. She justified it as a “public service expense” because Eric's ho
use was a bridge. The door was now the most valuable part of his home. Someone knocked.
I don't have time for this, Eric thought as he opened it. There's Kasile's coronation to prepare for, her father's funeral and—he trailed off at the sight of the visitor. It was a girl, and not just any girl, but the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
“C-c-can I-I-I hh-h- help you?”
The girl held her arms behind her back, tilted her head and leaned forward. “I'm sorry to trouble you, but there's something you should know: I am the one who hired you for the Joust.”
Joust; the word made Eric nostalgic. All his trouble started there. His first synchronization with Kasile and getting tangled up in her life. From there, he tried to prevent her kidnapping and, failing at that, he promised to rescue her from the Black Cloaks. Instead, he taught her basic magecraft and she escaped on her own. Then the magic contest and the coup de'ta . . .
“T-h-han tank..thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Suddenly bold, she draped herself over him and whispered in his ear, “I hope you appreciate the other things I did for you more.”
“…..wahb . . .wha . . .”
“Oh dear me, I forgot.” The girl stepped back. “You'll remember once I change into something more comfortable.” Eric almost passed out from the blood rushing to his face.
The girl's form blurred. Her face shifted. Her hair turned white and her eyes turned pink. Most startling was her change to a him.
“Hi, Roomy!” Eric punched him/her so hard, she/he fell to the dirt. “Oh, that brings back memories . . .You punched me the first time we met, though that time was an accident.”
“No . . .” Eric said with barely controlled fury. “The first time we met I was several years older!”
The albino smiled even wider. “Do you know how weird that sounds?”
A vein poked up on Eric's forehead. “TASIO!”
The target of his verbal assault rung out his ears. “You're no fun at all, Roomy.” He snapped his fingers and changed a second time. His hair became a brilliant brown-gold and ears became pointed. The Trickster floated in the air. “Better?”
“If you're here then who’s in my jar?”
“Aio Ricse,” Tasio replied.
“You're Aio Ricse!” Eric shouted.
“That's one of my aliases. Whenever I go undercover, I call myself 'Aio Ricse.' I am also known as 'Patron of Inventors,' and 'He-Who-Can-Burp-For-Infinitely-Long-Periods-Of-Time.'”
Eric rubbed his throbbing forehead. “Why did you do all this? Why!? Do you have any idea how torn up I was about Aio's death!?”
“Yeah, that was kinda graphic, but also fun because you called my bluff, but I still out-bluffed you. In any case, my plan worked because I killed someone who can't die instead of someone mortal.”
“Plan!?”
“Yes, to motivate you. You had such low self-esteem that you would never have accepted the Kyraan challenge without a serious motivation. Aio was created to be your friend, so the death of that friend would be that motivation. Once you made other friends, 'Aio' outlived his usefulness. I continued helping you under other guises.”
A realization hit Eric. “You were in the Temple of Rebirth . . .the voice of the pedestal . . .”
“Yep!” Tasio chirped, “I told the real Kyraan healer to take a day off while I pretended to be her. That way I could persuade you to go to the Altar of Rebirth and build your confidence. It was also a handy position to give you Dengel's spirit.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “You gave me an evil spirit mentor that tried to steal my body?”
“Think of Dengel like training wheels. Once you had the self-confidence to throw him out, you wouldn't need him anymore. Going into the escort mission I was afraid that would never happen, so I suggested that Basilard step back so you would have an opportunity to grow.”
“Where I would save my friends from the xethras . . . and then guide them out.” Eric realized. “The elemental fusion froze my magecraft . . . so I would have to go through the Altar of Rebirth without it . . .You planned all that out in advance!?”
Tasio shook his head. “Oh no, not at all. Have you forgotten our chess games? I planned something of that nature, but I had no idea you would sprain your soul.” The Trickster smiled brightly. “It worked out well, though!”
“Worked out!? I could have died at any point!”
“No you wouldn't. I had faith that you would succeed. If you failed, I'd save you. You're looking at the original Deus Ex Machina. Fortunately, I only had to perform this role at the end.”
“Oh yeah, what was that thing? It looked like a ghost.”
“That's a good label, but we called them 'enforcers'. They're mindless drones for a controlling spirit, The Anti-Thesis of Mischief. I'd been looking for it since Kyraa.”
“If Duke Esrah had something like that, why'd he bother with the coup?”
“You're talking about a guy who anticipated his chief accomplice, who happened to be his only son, betraying him and prepared a countermeasure. He probably used the enforcer to prevent the king from escaping or committing suicide and thus deny him the legitimacy he sought.”
“Why not just use the . . . enforcer?”
“Part of his contract with the thing was feeding it years of his life. He had to make himself king in name while he had enough life left to enjoy it.”
“He made a deal with a life-sucking evil spirit just to make sure his plan worked?”
“It's called 'Crazy Prepared.'”
“You know a lot for someone who wasn't there.” Eric's eyes narrowed. “Did you know the coup was going to happen?”
Tasio shrugged. “My sister is the Goddess of Gossip; how could I not know?”
“Why didn't you do anything!?” Eric demanded. “You could have stopped him! You could have saved all those people!”
Tasio waggled his index finger. “Helping would be kill stealing. Kasile would be devastated if a Deus ex Machina resolved her Royal Trial for her, Siron would be tormented by the skeleton in his closet, and it proved a useful flashpoint for your Dengel test. Other than that . . .” Tasio drooped and pawed the air. “Tricksters are helpers, but those we help ultimately have to pass or fail on their own. We can't do the job for them; it's both the pro and con of having free will.”
“Did you do anything else that I'm unaware of?”
“Weeelllllll . . .” Mischievous light returned to his eyes. “I pretended to be the biology teacher to ask Annala to be your guide since she's cute and sweet, and when you started crushing on her I told Basilard so he would take you to her gallery for encouragement. When I found out that she took a job with Tahart, I removed the sound-proof runes from his apartment so you could be her Knight-in-Shinning-Armor, which would be the cornerstone of your new confidence, and I tied your and Kasile's minds together so you could get involved in her life and eventually the coup, where you kicked out Dengel. You're welcome!”
Eric felt a scream building in his throat and even greater rage building in his belly. His entire adventure had been a game of speed chess and he a pawn for The Trickster! “Do you have any idea how much I want to strangle you right now?”
Tasio shrugged. “Go right ahead. I won't die.”
“More's the pity,” Eric said pointedly. “So this whole grand deception of yours was all to motivate me to grow a spine?”
“I promised, didn't I?”
“All I wanted was help writing a documentation!”
“No, you sent out a general request for help. You didn't mention exactly what for.”
Eric's forehead was now throbbing. “I meant what I said in the dungeon: I don't want or need your help anymore.”
Tasio's eyes dimmed and his smile faltered. “Exactly. You no longer need my help. You proved that when you cast out Dengel.”
“Great! Goodbye! Have a nice eternity. I have to get ready for Kasile's coronation.”
“No, you don't . . .because you won't be here.”
&nbs
p; Eric backed up nervously. “Tasio . . . what are you saying?”
“Since you no longer need my help, I have no choice but to return you to Threa.”
“No! I have friends here! A lot of friends! A job I like and Kasile will kill me if I don't show—”
“I'm sorry, Eric. It's out of my hands.”
The Trickster grabbed Eric's wrist faster than he could blink. He twisted and kicked and even shot a mana bolt, but it was all for nothing. A golden-brown portal appeared behind Tasio and Eric was pulled into it. Again, he saw the tunnel of light. It blinded him and all he knew dissolved.
He jumped up as if from a spring coil. He was in a dark room and there was a computer in front of him. Not one of crystal, but plastic and wire. He shook the mouse to turn off the screen saver and looked at the blank document. The date was the same as when he asked Tasio for help. He had been in Tariatla for a total of four months and yet his computer said not a day had passed.
A horrible dread flooded his body. NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Not a dream! It just couldn't be! NO! . . .no! no . . . Eric slumped as the Shadow of Despair loomed over him. He bashed his head on the keyboard and pounded his desk in useless anger. Please don't let it be a dream . . .
Was that all it was? All his adventures? The walk in the Rose Forest, the city of Roalt, the journey through the Yacian caverns and Kyaaran desert; his triumph in the Altar of Rebirth and foiling a coup. Were they all just the dreams of a failure? All his friends: Annala, Oito, Revas, Kasile, Kallen, Aio and all the members of the Dragon's Lair, where they just figments of his imagination? The wish fulfillment of a lonely man?
“NOOOO!”
“Hey, keep it down.” Oliver moaned from the next room. “I'm trying to sleep.” Eric's short and lanky neighbor walked in. “What's eating you, pal?”
“I thought I was a mercenary in a magic world.”
“I've had dreams like that. Except I'm a monkey. It's rough waking up after that.”
There was a knock on the door and Oliver answered it. He returned with something in his hands; a long, thin something in brown paper. “Hey, pal, this might cheer you up.” He handed the package to Eric, who half-heatedly grabbed it.
A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) Page 43