The Wizard's Sword (Nine Worlds of Mirrortac Book 1)

by Paul Vanderloos

  ‘Raven’s ...’ The echo was cut short by the sound of an explosion. Part of the rock wall of the chasm was obscured in a cloud of dust. Rock fragments flew into the air.

  Mirrortac looked down in time to notice a brilliant flash of lightning zigzag up out of the pit and strike another part of the rock face, dislodging rock and dirt in a great spray of dust. There were more flashes. Lightning criss-crossed the deepness, fizzing through the air in brilliant blue fingers of light. The darkness within the pit churned into activity, boiling within a purple cauldron and ascending the walls like a wraith of gloom.

  Then the centre of the pit split open and out of it shone a pure white sliver of light. The sliver burst into sparks of lightning which crackled and arrowed far up the walls of the chasm. Stone and dirt broke loose from the walls as the mysterious tempest rumbled, shaking the whole of the earth. Mirrortac stumbled back from the rim as the air snapped with a sharp blast accompanied by a blinding flash of light. The ground shuddered with such violence that he lost his balance. He fell sprawling into the dust and dirt. An eerie wind fanned out from the abyss and the sky was awash with a brilliance greater than the light of ten suns. Mirrortac shielded his eyes from the blinding light, burying himself partly in the earth. He had not expected anything quite as awesome as this. He clutched the earth with distress as the sky exploded with another peal of thunder and the earth shrugged him as he would a stray insect. ‘What in Mateote, in Ra, in God have I done!’ he cried.

  The fur on his back bristled as the whole of the air was diffused with the ethereal symphony of trumpeting accompanied by what sounded like the psalming of countless spirit voices. ‘Be all the gods and spirits released?’ Mirrortac muttered to himself. He would not dare open his eyes to look upon their faces for even with them closed, his eyes were hurting from the light that passed through the earth and the comparatively thin fleshy lids that shut out the day.

  Then out of all the din of wind and trumpets and psalming and thunder came a single clear voice that addressed him in gentle tones.

  ‘Child of dreams,’ the voice said. ‘Be unafraid and rest awhile. Though the earth and sky may be filled with tempest, you will be safe. You must no longer walk in the valley of shadows and mists. Mankind knows me as the Light of the World and it is through me that you will possess the lamp, so that all within shadow will be placed in the Light and no one will be able to hide from it. For the Light that comes from God is not the feeble glow of suns and fire but the pure true Light from which no darkness can be shielded.

  ‘Go your way then, child of dreams and look to the Light that endures. For I am with you and all my children even to the Great Changing. Rest now and awaken with Love.’

  The voice faded away and with it the whole of existence dwelt in silence. Mirrortac slept a long and peaceful sleep, ruminating upon the words of the gentle messenger, words that carried within them the promise of a new tomorrow.

  *****

  ‘Shalt thee look at ‘im. We sendeth a fellow upon some simple errand and ‘e goeth to sleep ‘afore the task has yet begun!’

  Mirrortac opened his eyes and stared up at the face of a young demi-god. His eyes were blue and clear and his blazing red hair fell in curls upon his shoulder. Beside him stood a young demi-goddess as radiant and lovely as a goddess could seem. Her dark hair swept straight down to just below her waist and she smiled at Mirrortac below deep brown eyes and a tiny nose.

  ‘Roderick. Our Mirrortac awakens. I suspect he knoweth nowt of our true features,’ she said to the young man. They both wore long white robes and were aglow with a warm love.

  ‘I wouldst support thee in this, Beth,’ he answered her. And addressing the erfin he said: ‘Mirrortac sir! I bring thee our blessings and gratitude.’

  Mirrortac sat up and dusted off all the dirt that had lodged in his coat. When he looked around him, he was surprised to see that the chasm was now a glistening blue lake, providing placid reflections of flowering stunted bushes and a backdrop of fir forest. Mountain peaks rose out of the forest at moonithian intervals while the blue spec of the Castle of Hopocus was still perched high on a far peak, many mooniths from them. Fresh green shoots of grass grew out of the earth all around them whilst the sky was as black as night despite the white sun that shone within it.

  ‘Yea, much ist restored but lo, the sorcerers art even at this moment plotting to destroy us all,’ Roderick said, regarding the far castle with a grave expression.

  Beth helped Mirrortac rise to his feet. The erfin felt refreshed and able to the task ahead. They all embraced.

  ‘I have seen many strange and terrible things in my travels,’ Mirrortac said. ‘But my heart is filled with wonder at the power of this God. We are but as weeds in this garden that is named Life. And when the Lord comes, with the mere force of his breath we can be destroyed. Howsoever, he does not choose to do this but love us instead, nurturing us in equal measure, the lowly grasses and the fragrant flowers. And though the wind may tear off our leaves and the sun burn us and the flood wash out the earth that binds us, the Lord is there with his tending hands to plant us back into the earth and care for us until our strength is returned.’

  Beth’s face lit up and she leant over and kissed him. ‘Surely, God hath touched thee this day,’ she said.

  He smiled, thinking of the teachings of Shubek and the special feelings he shared with the green things of the Divine Green.

  ‘Now, what of these lost souls. Should we not seek them and lead them out of Hopocus?’ he asked.

  Roderick drew in a breath and looked beyond into the forest. ‘Yea, they art following our Light,’ he said, concentrating on the far trees.

  ‘Light? I can see nought of light. And where are these souls?’ Mirrortac scanned the vague horizons.

  ‘They art within the wood but I see them with their rags gathered about their heels and walking in the path of thy Light. Remember they art of spirit and see the Light as a bright beacon though we nowt see it,’ Roderick said.

  ‘Oh God!’ Mirrortac exclaimed.

  ‘Precisely,’ they chorused.

  Suddenly the entire forest burst into spontaneous flame except for a narrow corridor of trees that led to the castle. Horrible cries issued from out of the inferno of smoke as the woods burnt quickly. The souls fled for the safety of the corridor, ensnared by the trap that the sorcerers had set.

  ‘Ye foolish ones!’ Roderick stamped his foot. ‘Ignore the fire. Flame can nowt burn the soul!’

  ‘These knoweth nowt of this, Roderick,’ Beth said. ‘They shalt behave as in the physical. What they shalt believe shalt be as real.’ She peered after the souls with despair.

  ‘So be it!’ Roderick cried. ‘I shalt cool thee a touch,’ he said, winking at Mirrortac.

  Roderick shut his eyes and concentrated. Before them, the sky visibly thickened into a haze and formed into rain clouds. In moments a heavy downpour doused the woods, extinguishing the flames and turning the heads of the fleeing souls back towards them. The wizard grinned with satisfaction. ‘Dere!’ he proclaimed. ‘That ought to water doon that sorcery a touch.’

  But his victory was short lived. Even before he had finished speaking, the sky grew dense with the sinister forms of giant winged beasts that fell upon the souls with clawed feet and long sharp beaks. Roderick glared at the beasts and blinked hard. In a flash of light and smoke the reptilian birds exploded and fluttered to the earth in a thousand shreds.

  ‘Wait to the beggars art angry,’ Roderick said.

  Mirrortac winced and Beth braved a smile at him. The sorcerers then called up a wind that whistled across the woods in gathering strength. The trees swayed to the gale as it howled over them and soon it was blowing so strong that the whole of the forest was bent over with the force of it. The souls slunk to the ground, trembling with fear.

  Roderick frowned with annoyance and swirled his hand in the air. ‘Spirits of air. Be STILL!’ he yelled. The sky shuddered and the gale diminished into a breeze.


  They waited some time but all was silent. Roderick was still perturbed but he turned his attention to the food that Beth had just prepared. He had earlier conjured out of the air some bread and a sweet beverage they called wine. Mirrortac enjoyed the taste of it and remarked that it was a little like merma-mead though not nearly as strong. As they feasted happily on the veldt, Mirrortac noticed a hut at the verge of the open woodland. The hut was uninhabited and long abandoned; perhaps the home of peoples who lived here before the sorcerers transformed Hopocus to their own designs. Beside the hut was an old disused well with the broken fragments of an urn alongside it. Behind them, the plain was still dry and dusty while on the far horizon, Mirrortac saw the flames of a lake of fire. The fiery lake stretched from one end of the horizon to the other.

  ‘Vulcan’s Moat.’ Beth said, following the erfin’s eyes to the fiery horizon. ‘T’was placed there to stop any soul from crossing over to the higher plain,’

  ‘Curse-ed Helok!’ Roderick jumped up, cursing towards the woods.

  ‘What ist the matter?’ asked Beth.

  Roderick shuffled to and fro, muttering under his breath.

  ‘We must be away to yonder woods. Helok hath assumed the form of one of the Light and ist luring our people to the Castle of Hopocus!’

  ‘Viper of the darkness!’ Beth scolded, shaking her fist at the distant castle.

  They all joined hands and in an instant found themselves deep within the woods.

  ‘Dere they be!’ Roderick cried.

  Only erfin-lengths away, trudged a ragged host of souls. The gleaming silver turrets and spires of a great palace perched above them. Marching at the head of the souls was a white robed figure, a woman with a lovely face and shining blond tresses. She addressed the souls in lilting tones, promising them immortality and all they should want.

  ‘Yield thee instrument of evil!’ Roderick screamed.

  The multitude halted, and as one, turned their pale drawn faces to look upon him.

  ‘T’is trickery that ye hath ‘afore thee, my people,’ he pleaded. ‘That woman ist nowt spirit of Light. She ist the viper Helok who hath cast thee in the Wood of Forgetfulness. Heed nowt to her promises. They art whisperings in the darkness. Cast thy eyes upon us before thee and see us in the true Light that shineth from God. The light that ye seeth about Helok ist but pale reflections. Come now and follow us and riseth to the true Light of Love and forgiveness.’

  The souls turned to each other and muttered among themselves. Helok spoke above their din, maintaining a gentle feminine tone.

  ‘Yea. Look upon them my children. They art all witches. Didst they nowt send a plague of fire upon thee? Didst they nowt curse thee with a storm of great wind? Didst they nowt send monsters from out of the sky to devour thee? I sayeth unto thee, ist such action the work of Spirits of Light? Doth nowt the green foul beast with them wear a sword by its side? If thee choose to follow them how do ye know that the beast wouldst nowt cut out thy heart and feed upon thee alive, tearing at thee with its claws and sharp teeth. And then they wouldst laugh and curse thee and call thee fools. But hearken thee yonder at the visage of the silver palace of light. There ist nowt monster nor witch to torment thee there. All thy wishes await thy command. Thee shalt feast and laugh and rejoice. Wouldst thou stand upon the golden stairs that leadeth to the gates of freedom and deny it? Thy choice ist thine. Go with them if thee desire but curseth nowt the freedom that was’t so near.’

  The crowd grew restless, muttering and cursing the three with mounting anger. Many of the souls jeered at Mirrortac and cursed him out loud. Cries of ‘Devil!’ rose from among the crowd and the erfin became distressed at the depth of their hatred for him. He was confused and angry at them for their foolishness. Roderick and Beth placed their arms around him and comforted him as best they could but his heart was in his throat.

  ‘What use is your tricks now!’ he grumbled.

  The crowd continued to jeer the three of them as they followed in Helok’s footsteps up the rock stairs to the castle gates. Roderick bowed his head and turned to his friends.

  ‘We must returneth to the place near the hut. Perhaps the Lord shalt show us the way there,’ he said, sighing with despair.

  They reappeared beside the hut and sat down in the soft grass. Mirrortac was feeling thirsty and went to the old well to fetch himself some water. He looked into it and saw the water level was about half an erfin-length from the top. He leant over the side and cupped his hand into the cool water below. The water was stale and bitter to the taste but it would quench his thirst. He wiggled over the ground until he was comfortable. His belt scraped against the rim and, as he reached in to gather some of the water, the sword dislodged from its sheath and slipped out, splashing into the well. He snatched at the submerging blade but had to let go as the blade cut into his fingers. Mirrortac muttered an erfin curse at it as all of Moongleam dunked out of sight.

  As he stared after the sword, he could see the metal dissolve away in a flurry of bubbles and the water boil an ugly yellow. He jumped back out of the well and hit his head on the timber support above. Through dazed eyesight, he could see symbols written upon the timber but could not decipher them.

  ‘Beth!’ he called, holding his sore head with bleeding fingers.

  The woman ran to him, gasping with concern when she saw the blood. ‘Mirrortac! Thou hath wounded thyself.’

  ‘What are these symbols? Can you read this?’ he asked, dismissing her attention to his wounds.

  Beth wet a lump of earth and placed it upon the erfin’s head and fingers. ‘T’is a nasty lomp thee hath, sir. Ye morst take more care. Thou wouldst nowt wont to lose thy body here.’

  ‘The soreness will heal,’ he said with annoyance. ‘Now, tell me what these symbols represent. I have lost my sword in that damned well and the water has eaten it by the means of some sorcery.’

  ‘Sorcery? Thy sword?’ She gave him a questioning look and laughed. ‘T’is best rid of, thy sword. T’is but an instrument of death.’

  Mirrortac pouted at her with irritation. ‘The symbols? What do they mean?’ he insisted.

  Beth turned her attention to the wood and its faded symbols. She peered at it for a few moments then spoke.

  ‘The symbols say “Well of Lost Memories”,‘ she said, then added with a cheeky grin. ‘Well sir, methinks thy sword be but a Lost Memory now!’ she howled, and then glancing down into the well, her interest was caught by something floating on the water.

  ‘Thy sword ist a memory but there ist some rod or a stick floating in it. Hath thee lost anything else?’

  Mirrortac leant over the well and looked in. As Beth had said, upon the surface of the water floated a long rod of silver metal. There were ornamental knobs on either end and at the centre of it and he could see familiar symbols etched upon its polished cylindrical sides. He reached down and fumbled with the smooth metal until he had a firm grasp of one end. Then he plucked it out of the water and lifted it to the light. Whatever the rod may have been, it was well crafted and provoked a strange air of familiarity to the erfin. He examined it closely, rolling the near erfin-length of rod between his thick fingers. As though it was his own, Mirrortac enfolded his hand around the central knob, locking his fingers neatly into the form. He swirled it and handled it with a deftness that surprised Beth. Beth’s eyes widened as she stared at the erfin and the rod, exchanging knowing glances with Roderick and beaming at Mirrortac with awe. Mirrortac was vexed by their expressions and gave them a questioning glance, pushing his thick eyebrows together.

  ‘What be the problem? Why are you looking at me that way?’ he asked them.

  They only smiled at him and shrugged. ‘Nowt problem,’ Beth said.

  Mirrortac resumed his examination of the rod and found the place upon it where he had earlier seen the familiar symbols. When he saw them in the light, he immediately recognised the secret inscription of the maja and knew what they meant. Now, he was as surprised as his companions. He read out the
words conveyed in the inscription. ‘Insta lu yavay Werd. Fot rin Werd Luman!’ - “In the beginning was the Werd. And the Werd became the Light!”

  With a sudden spasm, Mirrortac’s hand gripped the rod and a surge of great energy pulsed through him. Flashes of light shot out from the top of the rod and radiated up and down his body in ringlets. New memories permeated into his mind’s matrix and many of his questioning thoughts were reassembled into a sharper focus. The whole of his life’s experience wrenched into mind and was sorted, as one would separate weed from nif-grass. In a few amazing moments, the confused erfin was transformed into an awesome figure of radiant green while the shadowy visage of some great warrior erfin was spirited into Mirrortac’s own features. Roderick and Beth gasped at him with speechless awe and eyes moist with emotion. The flashing died down and the erfin smiled at them with shining green eyes.

  ‘Do not stand there beside your selves. Come with me. We have souls to help.’

  ‘Yea Sir!’ they cried; and in a flash they all vanished.

  Chapter 14 – Return of the Sacred Staff of Thaum

  All the lost souls of Hopocus had assembled in the courtyard of the Blue Castle. Helok and Krak, suspecting more interference from the wizard and his friends, maintained their deception as ministering angels, cloaking the castle in a facade of palatial splendour. The fountain at the centre of the courtyard spurted forth a refreshing stream of water that curtained down over ornamental stone and into a pool encrusted in sacred gemstones. They had prepared a banquet of sweet fruits, bread and urns of red wine, which the souls of many worlds partook, feasting upon the food they believed they still needed. The turrets of the palace gleamed silver in the clear sunlight and Helok and Krak smiled down upon the throng with mockery and mischief within their hearts. The gates of the palace closed securely and the wild woods without brooded in secret despair.

  Among the thousands of souls gathered in the giant courtyard were many Nerthulians. There were men and women of various origin and race, children and even babies who clambered about as in life, oblivious to the realm in which they had been delivered. Some of the older people knew they had died and thought Helok, in the guise of an angel, had delivered them from out of purgatory or Hades. Others refuted their death, seeing and hearing only what their minds allowed them to see and hear. All of them however had clung to one deception or another, denying themselves to themselves. The saddest were those who had chosen to violate their own bodies and in death found themselves faced with an eternal heartache from which they had no escape.