by Jeff Gunzel
She spoke in detail of her capture in Shadowfen, the way they tortured her to try and get information that she didn’t know to begin with. Then, ultimately, she told Aleesia of Thatra’s falling on the battlefield, of how she died with honor protecting the city. Swept up in her own story, Assirra looked over to notice Aleesia staring blankly at her. She had nearly forgotten she was telling the story to someone.
“Thatra is dead?” Assirra said, obviously struggling to come to terms with that. Although she hadn’t seen Thatra in many years, she still remembered her as the unstoppable warrior she was. Invincible, unbeatable, it was impossible to believe that she had fallen. Strange that she would focus on that one detail more than the rest of Assirra’s astonishing tale. But then again, the loss of an old friend felt more familiar to her. She knew nothing of these ghatins and lerwicks.
“Yes,” Assirra said softly. “And Odao did nothing when I tried to save her. In fact, it feels as though it has been ages since I have felt his presence. He has turned his back on me, and so I have turned my back on him. Never again will I be a puppet for a false god. He is dead to me. Do you see? Do you now understand why I need your help?”
Aleesia stood from her chair and turned her back to Assirra, crossing her arms while she thought for a moment. “I’m afraid that once again you have made an impulsive decision, High Cleric. You are angry. You feel betrayed and that is why you are here. A decision based on raw emotion is no decision at all. It is merely a reaction.”
“Do not call me by that name again,” Assirra hissed, rising from her seat. “That title means nothing to me now. As for your assumption that I may not be thinking clearly, let me assure you that my eyes are open for the first time. I see everything. I know what I took from you all those years ago, and I am sorry. But I am now offering you a choice, one you must consider very carefully. You can help me seek revenge for Thatra, help me join this fight in a meaningful way so I can aid my friends, or you can hide here in this forest, living out your days in solitude, eventually dying alone while knowing you never left your mark on the world. No one will remember you. You might as well never have existed at all.”
Aleesia turned around. “You know nothing of me or my craft. You don’t even know what it is that you seek.”
“Is that so?” Assirra asked, the corner of her mouth turning up in a sly smile. “Then why don’t you show me?”
*
The two of them sat at the table while a white candle flickered between them. Assirra couldn’t help but feel nervous, but in a way it was exhilarating. For so long she had been labeled a messenger for Odao, a direct link between the physical world and the tarrin god. Everyone respected her, feared her power and authority, but she always knew in her heart that none of it really mattered. Without Odao, she was just an average mortal. Seated before her was a tarrin with real power, and that alone excited her. Hopefully, this time the teacher might become the student. If so, she planned to embrace the new role with all of her heart.
“Before we can begin, you will at least need to have some understanding of what it is I do,” Aleesia began. “Dark arts, black magic, these broad terms are thrown around far too frequently. They are little more than a simpleton’s way of describing something he does not understand. It is ignorance in its purest form.
“When a person dies and enters the netherworld, their life force often stays behind in one form or another. This lingering life force is nothing more than pure energy. That energy is the source of our power. Do you follow me so far?”
“So your power is a form of necromancy?” Assirra asked, shifting a little in her seat. That was more or less what she had accused Aleesia of all those years ago.
“Exactly the opposite, in fact,” Aleesia answered. “Although most assume that there isn’t any difference.” The hard look in her eyes seemed to hint that she also remembered being accused of this very thing.
“So you talk to spirits the same way the spiritists do?”
“No,” Aleesia replied simply, tapping her chin while thinking. “But I suppose you could say it is something in between. The spiritists communicate directly with spirits, and spirits are no longer a part of the world of the living. Necromancers have the ability to not only communicate with the dead, but they can also influence and even outright control them to a certain degree. That is the difference between those two. I, however, am neither.”
“I don’t understand,” Assirra said. “You don’t communicate with the dead, or control them in any fashion, yet the dead are the source of your power?”
“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Aleesia laughed, throwing her head back as the low candlelight danced shadows across her face. “First, you must understand what happens after death. Sometimes, when a person passes from this world, their life force is able to remain intact. A “whole” spirit usually retains most of its old memories from its living form. It can be communicated with by the spiritists, or sometimes controlled and manipulated by the necromancers. What you do not understand is that this is actually quite rare.
“Far more often than not, the being’s life force is ripped apart. In this way, death is far more unforgiving than many of you were led to believe. When this happens, the life force converts back into its purest form.”
“Energy,” Assirra said, finally starting to understand.
“Yes. But it is raw and untamed. No longer does it have a mind or conscience of its own. It is not a thinking entity with any self-awareness. You cannot speak with it, reason with it, and most don’t even realize it exists. But it is in fact all around us. This energy is far more abundant than the wandering sprits most think of when pondering the afterlife. This is why so many are intimated by my kind. They do not understand my methods, or the source of my power. Even necromancers fear my kind. Witches, demons, they call us. But most refer to us as shadow mages. I, for one, embrace that title.”
Slowly beginning to understand, Assirra found herself feeling guilty all over again. “I am so sorry,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. “If I had known... I really didn’t understand.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Aleesia said, waving her apology off. “You were blinded by a religion that only lets you see what you are supposed to see. That is the basis for all religions. We are right and the rest of the world is wrong. If anyone were to dare deviate from that thinking, then they are also in the wrong and must be punished for it. And around and around it goes. I cannot hold you responsible for following the only logic you have ever known.
“But enough about that. Allow me to give you a demonstration.”
Aleesia moved to the center of the room. Watching intently, Assirra stepped near the corner to give her more space. Like before, Aleesia’s hair began to wave about as she tipped her head back. The room seemed to darken as if her body were somehow drawing in the light. White spectral faces appeared all around her, each one flowing through an array of different expressions. Some laughed, others cried, and some seemed to scream in agony.
One by one the ghostly faces began to vanish, each one folding in on themselves as if being sucked away through an invisible tube. But each time one vanished, another appeared to take its place. “You see them, yes?” Aleesia asked, her gaze finding Assirra standing on the other side of the room. The sudden attention startled Assirra. She had been under the impression that any sort of magic performed took all the person’s concentration. Liam could not speak, or do much of anything else when he was casting. Why could Aleesia?
“I see the spirits,” Assirra said, stepping closer as she grew bolder.
“That’s not exactly true,” Aleesia corrected. “What you are seeing are only fragments of them. It’s their lingering energy which I spoke of earlier. When I reach out and extract that energy, what remains of the spirit fragment is effectively destroyed.”
“You mean you’re killing them?” Assirra asked, somewhat alarmed at the notion.
“I cannot kill that which is already dead.”
&
nbsp; “But that’s what spirits are. They’re already dead,” Assirra pointed out, not willing to let it go so easily. To her eyes, they appeared to be suffering greatly.
“Whole spirits, yes,” Aleesia said patiently, faces still appearing and vaporizing all around her. “I don’t even have the ability to interact with them.” She eyed the table, trying to think about how to describe something that was already so painfully obvious to her. “Look at those two stumps there by the table. Now imagine that one is still a stump, the other is a stray dog. Say I want to put a funny hat on both of them. I can place it on the stump without a problem, but the dog is just going to run away from me. The difference between a spirit and just its remaining energy is very much the same.
“When I absorb the dead’s energy, there is no resistance at all. They have no will to resist because energy is all that is left. But if I tried to do the same with an actual spirit, it would just drift away without a second thought. Even if I managed to connect with it, I could not drain any energy from it. I don’t have the ability. Easier to suck a stone through a straw.”
“Then what are these faces I keep seeing?” Assirra asked, watching as they continued to appear, then boil away like steam.
“Fragments,” Aleesia shrugged. “Flickering illusions. A last glimmer of who they once were in life. I assure you they feel no pain. They feel nothing in fact, not unlike that tree stump. You need not worry about such things. It’s like accusing me of torturing a rock. Now, please allow me to finish my demonstration.”
She raised her hands up over her head. The whole room appeared to shift between light and dark as she focused her attention on the table. The legs quivered at first, as if someone had bumped their knee underneath it. Then, it slid across the floor, slamming into the far wall. “And now...” She lowered her hand, curling a finger. The table slid back to where it was as if she had called it.
Beginning to sweat, Aleesia wiped her forehead and smiled. “The energy is really very basic, you see. As far as objects go, I can either push or pull them. Depending on their size, I can even lift smaller ones. But that’s not all.” Clenching her fists, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Little flecks of light sparkled above her head. Like fireflies, they seemed to wink in and out as they materialized. Seconds later, shiny white spheres the size of fists appeared, rotating around her head in a tight circle.
“Concentrating all my energy together, I can even create physical objects,” Aleesia said. This time there was a clear strain in her voice. Whatever she was doing, it was obviously using a great deal of concentration. “These objects can take any form I choose as long as I think about it hard enough. Spheres are the easiest because I don’t have to concentrate on any particular shape.”
“Can I touch them?” Assirra asked, already stepping in to do just that.
“Not if you want to keep your fingers,” Aleesia croaked, the strain in her voice even more evident that time. To demonstrate what she meant, she raised the rotating circle of white spheres even higher. Hissing against the ceiling, they instantly blackened a trail across any part they touched. The scent of scorched wood filled the hut. Releasing her hold on them with a sharp breath, the glowing spheres disappeared in a flash of white. Dropping to one knee, she smacked her palms against the floor. She gasped for air as if she had just sprinted a mile, back rising and falling while drops of sweat dripped from her chin.
“And that,” she said, pausing to take a few more deep breaths, “is your fist glimpse into the world of a shadow mage. I admit, our abilities are rather limited when compared to other forms of magic. But the source of our power is practically limitless. The dead’s energy is all around us, with more being added every second of every day.”
“Are you all right?” Assirra asked, stepping up cautiously to the downed woman.
“I will be,” Aleesia assured her, rising up on her knees with both hands on her thighs. She was beginning to catch her breath now. “Changing the energy into physical objects is far more taxing than simply moving objects. I’ve had years of practice yet still I tire quickly.”
“Why is that?” Assirra asked. Normally she would not have given it a second thought. After all, what did she know of the arts or any if its various practitioners? But she had seen Liam in action a few times. His magic never affected him that way. “One of the friends I mentioned to you earlier. Liam. He too is a mage of sorts.” She snapped her fingers a few times. “A...er…mystic. Yes, that’s it. Casting never seemed to tax his body like this. What is the difference between you two?”
“A mystic, eh?” Aleesia laughed, pushing herself up off the floor. Bits of her damp hair clung around her face. Smoothing it aside with one hand, she began fanning herself with the other. “That’s like asking about the difference between water and fire. Your friend, this Liam, derives his power from a completely different source. When spells are cast in this fashion, they are usually brought about by saying a few magical phrases. I imagine he also uses a staff or wand to help channel the spells?”
“Staff,” Assirra said, impressed by Alessia’s knowledge on the subject. Perhaps this is what happens when one withdraws from society and has nothing to do other than read books all day.
“Of course,” Aleesia replied, twirling her hand as if that should have been obvious. “When someone like Liam casts a spell, it is the magical words bringing forth a reaction. These spells have to be practiced constantly, the words said just right. And most importantly, the mind must be linked to the outer plane. This is where his magic is drawn from. The words simply open up a gate between our worlds, allowing the magic to flow. That is not an easy task by any means. Only a strong mind can perform such a feat.
“But there are weaknesses to this sort of magic as well. Because the mind is so thoroughly involved, his concentration so absolute, that a simple,” she clapped her hand, “disturbance of any kind can disrupt the spell. Why, he could be casting a spell so powerful that it could level a city, and yet my simply flicking his nose would ruin the spell.
“But there are strengths as well. His physical body has very little to do with the energy being channeled, so he does not fatigue the way I do. Mental exhaustion perhaps, but not physical.
“I, on the other hand, have more in common with you than with him.” Assirra was a little taken aback by that. She didn’t really see how that was possible.
“What was it like when your god worked through you? Could you not feel his power as if it were your own?”
Assirra winced at the questions. Odao’s abandonment of her was still plenty fresh in her mind. “Well,” she said, forcing herself to think about it. “Yes, I suppose it was something like that. There was never much effort on my part. All I did was open my heart and mind, then let Odao flow through me like a river. His will became my will. His strength became my strength.”
“Precisely,” Aleesia agreed. “Once the energy starts channeling through you, the rest comes easy, natural, even. Your body in particular is already used to letting energy flow through it. But here is the difference. This time you will not just be a vessel to be used by another being. This time you will be the one directing the flow.” She looked around, eyeing various spots on the hard floor. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of accommodations. As you can imagine, I don’t often entertain guests. Try and make yourself comfortable, if that is at all possible. You will need your rest tonight.” Stretching, she walked over to her hammock and eased herself down. “We will start in the morning.”
“You mean you’re going to train me?” Assirra asked, unable to keep the excitement from her voice.
“No,” Aleesia said flatly before rolling over on her side. “First, I need to find out if you’re even worth training. Prove that you are, and we shall go from there. Good night.”
Chapter 7
After a long night of tossing and turning on a hard wooden floor, Assirra awoke to the sound of stomping feet. “Get up,” Aleesia ordered, nudging her with a foot to the back
of the neck. Assirra rolled to her back, wincing at the stiffness of her body. All her joints ached. Somehow, she suspected that she probably should have slept outside. Surely even the hard ground was more comfortable than this floor. A second, more forceful kick prompted her to sit up.
“Hey!” Assirra protested, rubbing her shoulder.
“I know you are not used to taking orders,” Aleesia said, smirking down at her. “But I suspect that is about to change. Need I remind you that you are not in Eldham anymore? Here, I make the rules. Understood? Now get up.”
Muttering something under her breath, Assirra pushed herself up off the floor as her body cracked and popped in protest. Yes, she would definitely sleep outside in the dirt next time.
Out of pure instinct, Assirra raised a finger and opened her mouth, prepared to give this girl the proper tongue lashing she deserved. But strangely enough, the level look she got from Aleesia, one almost daring her to go through with it, was enough to silence her. It was true, she wasn’t in Eldham anymore, and she wasn’t in charge of anything these days. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She had practically come here begging for help. And if that meant keeping her head down and swallowing her pride, then so be it.
“Yes, Aleesia,” Assirra said, brushing off her dress, as if this torn rag could even still be called a dress. “I am up. What would you have me do first?”
Aleesia smiled, liking the change in tone from the woman who once cast her away so many years ago. But she also felt pity for Assirra as well. No one should have to suffer the way she had recently, not even her. Assirra had already made it clear she was not here to throw her weight around. She was here to learn and nothing more. “First?” Aleesia said, looking Assirra up and down. “First, I should have you get out of these filthy rags. I’m sure we can find something that will fit you.”
After rummaging through a tattered old box in the corner of the room, Aleesia found what she was looking for. The fine red dress was too large for her, but she never found the heart to rid herself of it because of its fine quality. Assirra happily slung it on. It was still a bit too small for her, but that didn’t matter. It did, however, make her feel strange to be wearing such a fine dress out in the middle of nowhere.