by TP Keane
*
Ol?rin watched in horror as Aramus was blown backward by the blast from his staff. Without thinking, he ran down to where the young man had fallen, and dove, head first, after him. Soaring through the air, fearfully anticipating that he would soon meet with one of the jagged cliff edges that whizzed past his head, Ol?rin caught up with Aramus's limp body. He grabbed hold of the young man around the waist, and pointed his staff in the direction of the serrated rocks that were quickly approaching.
"ONIS," he boomed.
Almost instantly a plume of dirty, grey clouds gathered under them. The vortex spun violently, engulfing the two in a matter of seconds. A powerful blast of icy air slowed their fall. Like an autumn leaf caught in an updraft, Ol?rin and Aramus fell downwards until they landed at the foot of the mountain with a small drop, whereupon the swirling vortex melted from existence like it had never truly been there.
From high above Ol?rin, the sound of the queen's furious cries rang out in the still air. The fall had given them some time to escape her, but not much.
"Aramus," Ol?rin said, laying the young man down gently in the snow. "Aramus, speak to me."
Ol?rin waited for what seemed like an age. His heart thumped widely in his chest as he pressed down on Aramus's injured shoulder to stop the bleeding. Regardless of how hard he pressed, however, blood still spilled between his fingers, and soon it began to feel cold and sticky.
"Old man," Aramus groaned half-coherently. "You do realise that I am the only one who can fly?"
"Yes," Ol?rin replied with a small laugh of relief. "Although, my magic has taught me to fall gracefully, has it not?"
With his eyes still closed, Aramus turned the corner of his mouth into a crooked grin.
"We must leave this place at once," Ol?rin said looking around him. "It appears that the queen's reach has already come as far as the mountains and it's no longer safe to journey in the open."
"I? I'm not sure that I can walk," Aramus said, grimacing.
"No, of course you can't. But with a little help from our friend over here, we will move more quickly." Ol?rin raised his hand toward a long-haired mountain goat with its muzzle buried deep in the snow, trying to find some grass to graze on.
"A goat?" Aramus laughed weakly. "You expect that a goat will be able to carry me? I think the fall has loosened the last ounces of reason secured in your brain, old man."
"Aramus," the old wizard sighed. "Although your proclamations about my senility had always been said in jest before, I never knew that you truly believed them."
Closing his eyes, Ol?rin began to repeat a low rumbling chant which echoed inside the nearby rocks. The mountain goat raised its head from its work and looked at the two men. It stomped its hoofs irritably, like it had an itch that it just couldn't reach, and slowly it began to grow. First its two curled horns grew until the weight of them made its head bow. Next its legs widened and stretched, followed closely by its torso and head. Soon the hardy animal had grown to twice the size of any horse. When it was all done, Ol?rin lowered his hands and breathed heavily.
"Okay, I take it back, old man," Aramus said, before passing out.