The War of Spells

by George Mazurek

  “Father, what does the nonexistence look like?” I asked, whilst Gael was leaning above the egg, scrutinizing it thoroughly.

  “You will find it out yourself, Son,” he answered absent-mindedly, and shifted to the other relic's end. “But, please, do not rush in...”

  “I will not, Dad.”

  “Good. By the way, your Mother is very proud of you.”

  “My Mother?” I repeated, dumbfounded.

  “Yes. Laetia. You should have seen her when she was pregnant. She was talking and singing to you ceaselessly while caressing her large belly. We both knew the childbirth would be hard, if not fatal, for her.”

  I felt something growing in my throat. I wiped my eyes. “I'm sorry for her.” I whispered.

  I'm sorry I was not given an opportunity to know her...

  “Why did you send me to the farm at Yellow River?”

  “Because I knew I would be challenged soon, and I was afraid of what might happen to you in case I was defeated. I hadn't trusted anyone in Averot'h, so I had to choose someone from the outside. And Lauren, your step-mother, already had a boy, only two years older than you, and wanted another one. As far as I know, they cared for you well.”

  “The boy's name was Lokmi,” I said softly. “If not for him, I would still be farming, planting trees and crops, harvesting grain, milking cows.”

  “Perhaps, your fate was written another way, Son.” He commented. Finally, he straightened up. “Now, move aside.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “Nothing to worry about for someone who is dead already.”

  I smiled. I liked his sense of humor.

  He took the dagger, stained by Mouth's blood. “Cover your eyes, Son. It might be somewhat explosive.”

  And with that he stabbed the knife right into the egg!

  He cut pulsating veins apart, and the walls of the stronghold started to shake. When the blade halved the relic, large crevasses tore the ceiling, and it began to crumble.

  The egg got paled, and after two heartbeats it died out.

  “Done!” Gael yelled. “Get out of here!”

  ~

  We escaped in the very last moment, using the corridor I came in. A few seconds after we got outside, the cliff behind us collapsed with a horrible thunder, creating a giant cloud of dust. I covered my eyes and mouth with a piece of my coat. When the dust settled, my Father was still there.

  He came closer and hugged me. “I wanted to do this earlier, but there was no time. Not only is Laetia proud of you, Syrdan.”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “I must go.” He said. “And you must hurry up too. The dragons left the stronghold an hour ago.”

  “What!?” I exclaimed.

  “They are heading for Averot'h,” He confirmed my worst fears. “For the decisive attack...”

  “But Averot'h is at least two days walk from here!” I almost screamed. “Mouth promised I ould back in the fortress before they attacked! I will never make it in time!”

  Suddenly, a circle of standing stones appeared.

  “Mouth lied to you,” Gael said sternly. “He lied to all of us. But with our help, you can still make it to the city before it's too late.” He positioned himself on the circle's perimeter, in a gap between two stones, before transforming into a shady stone as well.

  I rushed to the circle's center.

  The power of Gharib brought goose bumps to my skin. I closed my eyes, wishing to be thrown back to the fortress as soon as possible.

  The magic buzzing in my ears faded away sooner than I expected. I opened my eyes. I was still at the foot of the collapsed cliff.

  What's wrong?

  ~

  Gael rushed to me with the man I met in the corridor leading to the hall with the magic egg. My Father's face was full of concern.

  “We are not able to transport you to the fortress now,” Gael said. “The Elders are not strong enough.”

  “We have dried out our power bringing you to the past,” the second man nodded in affirmation. His beard and hair was as white as snow. “My name is Dian, and I am a new speaker of Gharib. Gharib assumes it can accumulate sufficient power in twelve hours.”

  “Twelve hours?!” I repeated, stunned. “That's twelve hours too late!”

  “I'm sorry,” Dian said and left me rooted where I stood.

  “Everything is lost...” I whispered.

  ~

  “Maybe it's not.”

  A hoarse, male voice interrupted my grim thoughts. I turned around to see a small man approaching us.

  His stature and dress was average, but his face was so special that my first thought was I will remember him forever…

  The man had short, shaggy hair hemming a round face that seemed to be assembled from several pieces that didn't fit together, like a puzzle wrongly arranged. His large, light-blue eyes were contrast to a tiny chin and nose, while his ears were disproportionally large when compared to his size. His magic aura was so thick that it refracted the light around his body, causing an illusion of a body moving through dense fruit syrup...

  I realized all wizards in the circle, including Dian and my Father, calmed down in surprise, and began to bow with respect to the newcomer. I heard a whisper running across the circle.

  “Rotah… Rotah honored us by his visit…”

  I turned back to the small man.

  So this is the founder of Averot'h? The man who built its walls? The man considered the mightiest wizards who has ever lived?

  For a moment, I completely forgot about dragons, driven by a curiosity to the man exchanging words with Gael at present.

  “Your son is doing very well,” I heard Rotah say. “He is destined to finish what I started.”

  “We all hope so, Excellence,” my Father replied.

  Then Rotah approached me. “With the joint powers of myself and Gharib, we will get you to the fortress immediately,” he said. “Your presence at the battle is crucial. Don't forget dragons are our enemies, boy. Be merciless. Do not show any weakness. And do not make the same mistake we did in E'dorn.”

  I nodded. “I will not. May I ask you something?”

  “Go on.”

  “With your power, why don't you wipe out dragons yourself?”

  Rotah furrowed his brow. “That's a good question… When I was a kid, a mangy dog appeared in my village. My father said: 'Son. Go and kill that miserable beast.' I traced the dog, and then I released tens of spells to slay him, but I failed. My father was perplexed by my failure, as I was a master of spells even as a babe. But I learned something. No matter how immense our power is, it has its limits. I'm a builder, a kind of an artist. At times, I see the future. These are my gifts. I cannot kill a dragon, wizard, human nor a dog. You are not a builder. Your gift is the power to heal and kill. You are the one who must face the dragons in a decisive battle, not me…”

  I dropped my eyes to the ground.

  Is he right? Is killing my gift? Could killing be called a gift? Do I want it?

  “We are prepared!”

  The voice of the new Mouth returned me to reality. I dashed into the middle of the circle. Rotah was already standing on its perimeter.

  In an instant, I felt the power of Gharib coming from all directions. Magic formed a vortex that caught me and spun me around; the world went dark and I closed my eyes. My guts swung as an unfamiliar force grasped me and threw me through space and time.

  First, I heard distant screams, then I smelled fire and burning wood.

  I opened my eyes.

  I was standing on the walls of Averot'h!

  CHAPTER 12

  The Battle

  it took me a while to get orientated.

  The night was lit only by stars and torches in the distance. Screams, shouts, and high-pitched, eagle-like calls of dragons were heard muted by the donjon between myself and the wall. From time to time a blast of fire appeared, followed by more intense screams.

  I hurried to the front line of the b
attlefield.

  The battlements were occupied by men lying dead on the ground, men sitting on the ground, holding their legs or hands and screaming with pain, and men fighting the beasts hidden by the night.

  “Damned Er'med!” I cursed.

  I could save all those people if I were given more time to construct complex defensive spells before the battle!

  Quickly, I recognized the soldiers had no chance against the dragons, whose heads and streaming fire appeared out of nowhere, close enough to deliver the damage, before returning back to the omnipresent darkness. Basically, the defenders were shooting their arrows blindly, with only a slim hope of hitting the target.

  I spotted catapults throwing balls of pitches in flames, which could be harmful when hitting the dragons' eyes or thin wings. One of the shots was lucky to land on a dragon's belly. The beast roared, as its underbelly was as vulnerable to fire as that of a human. He turned and twisted high above the walls, roaring with pain, the pitch still burning, until he wobbled in the air and fell to the ground out of our sight.

  Well done!

  However, the catapult crew didn't rejoice for long, as they were attacked by another dragon. A stream of fire sent two men ablaze, while the rest of the crew rushed to load another piece of pitch before the dragon finished its turnover. The dragon dove to increase its speed and then spurted out to the catapult. The men launched the pitch which missed the dragon's head, but hit its right wing, burning a large hole in it.

  The dragon bellowed and released the flame that set the remaining crew afire. The men yelled and jerked, trying to extinguish their burning clothes and limbs. The dragon spread out his wings to gain elevation, but half of his right wing broke off. The beast tilted to the right, unable to control the maneuver. Its legs hit the battlements, sending merlons flying into the dark. A second later, the dragon's head crushed into an adjacent watchtower, caving into its interior and causing the tower to collapse. Thundering of falling walls, bricks, and dust filled the air.

  The beast jerked twice and then went rigid. I sucked in a deep breath.

  That's it…

  But where is Deadweed?!

  I ran along the battlements, releasing defending spells here and there, until I found her.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Here you are!” Deadweed embraced me with a broad smile, kissing me eagerly. She wore her grey coat with a hood, holding her favorite crossbow in her right hand.

  “Where have you been? We need your magic!” She burst out. “We have lost many men! We are on the brink of defeat! Can you make more light?”

  I nodded and released a spell that illuminated the entire wall.

  The men on the battlements grew stiff for a moment, turning their heads in disbelief.

  “Syrdan, the wizard, returned to us!” Deadweed shouted so loudly that every one could hear her. “Bring those bastards down!”

  Exultation was the response to her words. The air grew thick with arrows and pitch. Now, when all the dragons were clearly visible, shots became more accurate, delivering damage to the ranks of the beasts.

  With another spell released from my left fingers, I broke the neck of the nearest dragon.

  Meanwhile, Deadweed's arrow pierced the temple of another dragon, which was sent into a deadly tailspin afterwards.

  It seemed the fate of the battle might turn in our favor after all.

  But we focused on the next target more than on our safety.

  I spotted the dragon with red stripes in the very last moment. He encircled the donjon and attacked us from behind.

  I immediately created an invisible wall above us and the dragon hit it with his weight, swaying his long tail. The magic barrier withstood the strike, crushing the dragon's body and his skull, but the tip of his tail broke through.

  Deadweed shrieked.

  I turned to her and froze.

  Her chest was punctured with a prick.

  “No!”

  I caught her before she collapsed. I took her in my arms and laid her down gently. I put my coat under her head.

  Her chest and belly seeped red in less than a minute. Her face grew paler with every breath.

  No, it cannot be!

  My fingers ran in a desperate attempt to heal her wound, but where death was coming, no spells were of any help...

  She turned her face to me, suppressing the pain. Her eyes were sad but calm. On the contrary, I was sobbing like a child.

  “Your hand...” she whispered.

  I touched her, her fingers were dreadfully cold.

  In a split second, I saw her whole life, from the cradle to the present day, her memories and thoughts, it was flowing through my mind like a waterfall.

  It stopped as suddenly as it began.

  “Take a piece... of my hair.” She continued with a soft voice, struggling with every word.

  I cut a strand of her hair falling on her cheek, not asking for a purpose of this act. I put the piece of her blond hair deep into my right pocket.

  “I love you...” She went on softly, gazing at my eyes full of tears. She even attempted a weak smile. “My... name... Ilsea... not end... tree... life... back.”

  And those were her last words. Her pupils glazed over, reflecting my head and shoulders. And also black wings drawing nearer and nearer...

  I straightened up, turning to the dragon raging above my head.

  In a moment, intense grief turned into immense wrath that filled my mind, a lethal rage that couldn't be matched! I felt vibrations resonating from my fingers on my left hand down to my heels. No one ever absorbed so much anger in one single moment...

  I lifted up my left hand, already flaring in ominous red and yellow.

  I gave a scream and all my wrath was released in one blinding fire of light, thousands of times brighter than the sun and millions of times as deadly. The dragons were struck between two flaps of their wings. The raging spell moved as a wave through their bodies, burning them from mouths to tails, changing the beasts into grey ash that slowly fell from the skies. A terrible yell filled my ears as the giant creatures were swallowed one after another. My body began to quiver, I was shaking more and more, but I held on until the sky was clear of any scale and any talon, until all the dragons were turned into nothingness, once and for all.

  When the silence hit my ears, I fell on my knees, crying with grief and pain. My left arm was blackened from the fingers to the elbow, burned to the bone underneath.

  The anger turned into unbearable grief again.

  When I pulled myself together, I looked around. The walls were full of dead bodies; soldiers were scattered everywhere. I recognized Darnis' body with an awful wound on his neck, then Auger's, lying motionless with his face buried in the dust. I waded through corpses, torn limbs and burned heads to find someone alive, but they were all dead. Many men fell down from the battlements, Egis among them. A gusty wind was ruffling my hair, bringing leaves and small pieces of branches. There was no one to help to.

  I returned to Ilsea.

  But her body was gone!

  I rubbed my eyes. I was sure she was just lying there, beside the donjon, next to the crushed dragon who delivered the lethal blow. I looked around again, but she was definitely gone. The place was void, void and sorrowful as my heart.

  I left the battlements, wandering through the fortress for a while. But it was like walking among ghosts.

  Even horses and beasts of burden in stables were dead.

  I took a shovel from a nearby shed and dug out 224 graves in sixteen rows, with fourteen graves in each line. I buried all the men and women slaughtered in the battle without any ceremonies, in a place that will be known as the main cemetery in the future. I dug out a grave for Ilsea, and left it empty.

  It was tedious work, and my wounded left hand didn't help much. But, at least, the monotonous activity reduced my grief.

  When I finished the job, I sat down on a flat stone, resting for a while.

  I didn't know I was go
ing to rest there for years...

  CHAPTER 13

  Homecoming

  i was to be blamed for the death of all 224 people I had left in the fortress unprotected by my magic. I felt guilty for Ilsea's death. Lokmi's death was my fault as well. Also, I was guilty of many other lives lost in the former Averot'h.

  I wished my heart to stop beating right then, but it continued pounding mercilessly in the middle of my chest.

  But for what reason!?

  I was not just broken. I was torn to a million pieces. I just wanted my life to be finished. Wherever I had gone recently, only dead bodies were left. I wanted to scream my pain and grief out, but the words in my mouth died with people at the fortress.

  I recalled Cid'rel's curse, his last words.

  Is that it? His curse? Will I never find peace indeed?

  I examined my left hand. I could move the fingers, but that familiar vibration of magical power was gone.

  At least I am not able to kill anyone anymore...

  I was not going to utter a sound for three years.

  Fall colored the trees, and winter wiped the colors out and replaced them with a white snow, the spring came with birds twittering, followed by a stifling summer with occasional thunderstorms, until the chilling northern winds announced the coming of the fall again.

  I didn't move from my place near the cemetery. I let Ilsea's life flee through my mind. I knew it made no sense, as she was dead, but I felt I owed it to her.

  I didn't expect what I would learn. I saw her happy childhood and growing up at some court where sacred trees were worshipped and many unfamiliar rituals were revolving around them. I saw Auger Riverre as a youngster. I saw a dreadful attack of dragons bringing death to her most loved people, her father, her handsome man and her little, cute daughter. I saw the moment when she chose her fate. I saw regiments of archers and crossbow men lining up against the scaly beasts under her command. I saw all the dragons she had slayed.

  Now I knew who she was.

  She was a Princess.

  Despite all the terrible losses she had suffered, she was the most kind-hearted and charitable person I had ever met.