Fate of Thorik

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Fate of Thorik Page 54

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

Ambrosius and his brother continued their battle. Darkmere’s crippled body hunched over as he reached out and touched the ground in front of him. The stone at his fingertips changed into molten rock and a river of it instantly raced forward upon the floor heading toward Ambrosius. Steam rose as the water sprayed onto it.

  Ambrosius jumped to his side, but his nemesis’ power of alteration was strong as the shallow trench of super-heated stone followed his moves. He ran back up the stairs as the alteration caught up to him and melted the steps below his feet.

  Launching himself away from the steps and through the air, Ambrosius landed near the seam of the doors. The powerful jets of water shot inches from his face as he gained his footing. Using nature’s own water pressure, he angled the stream toward his brother.

  The burst of water shot at Darkmere who raised his arms the best he could. Not to defend himself, but to alter the air in front of him into an inferno.

  The air between them changed to a furnace of flame and heat, evaporating the water instantly.

  Ambrosius could feel the heat begin to burn his skin as well as his lungs. Unable to breathe, he covered his face. His clothes and staff ignited in flames as he pushed more water toward Darkmere with no effect, except for the additional steam.

  Resorting to his non-E’rudite powers, Ambrosius raised his flaming staff and launched it through the air like a spear. Darkmere had no time to react as the weapon emerged from the cloud of vapors. Striking him in the forehead, it knocked him onto his back, breaking his concentration and ending the firestorm. Regardless, steam continued to bellow from the magma on the floor, along with the cracking and popping of the water trying to cool it.

  Before Darkmere could recover, Ambrosius tossed his brother in the air while reaching down and picking up his scorched wooden staff. Slamming into a far wall, Darkmere fell forward onto the floor. His body now crippled and mangled by Ambrosius. Arms and legs were shattered at every joint. The only thing functional was his head and a few internal organs as he struggled on the upper terrace floor. Heavy waters splashed at him, washing him over the ledge and onto the main floor where his followers stood.

  Emilen let go of Thorik’s hands and ran over to Darkmere to pull his head above water while Ambrosius walked to the edge and looked down at his dying brother. She cradled his head in her arms as his limp body swayed in the water’s flow.

  Ambrosius looked down at Emilen for a moment in her hooded robe with the brass disk and gem hanging from her neck. “It’s you.” It suddenly hit him. “You were Beltrow’s assistant. You brought the gem to the Council, but Volnic pushed you and broke the necklace that held it around your neck. Even so, you knew your father would eventually say the word to activate the illusion.” His memories erupted as he looked at her. “I remember you pulling me into the boat and saving me. For what purpose? Just to lead me back into Darkmere’s trap? Have you worked for Darkmere all along?” Ambrosius’ mind raced as all the points finally connected. Beltrow had told him that he sent his daughter for the annual summer trade and yet Dare said they never arrived in Shoreview. She must have joined the Terra King as a Grand Fir during that trip. “Thorik, how long have you known Emilen?”

  Fighting the current of the water, Thorik replied, “She arrived at Farbank about the same time I found you in the forest. But it can’t be her; the spirits in the Kingsfoot Statues said that you killed them.”

  “The statues did not say that I killed them. They asked why the killer had returned. Emilen had returned to Kingsfoot and was in the city while we were talking to the spirits.”

  Thorik also started piecing it together, her comments to the Num merchant in Pyrth, her arguments with Brimmelle, her insistence on helping Ambrosius travel to Woodlen, everything.

  “Why?” Thorik asked her.

  “The Terra King speaks the words of the Mountain King. Listen to him. Realize what he could do for us. As a spiritual leader, I was sent on an important assignment for our faith, to destroy the Council and bring Ambrosius to Woodlen.” Emilen touched Thorik’s face softly to get him to understand. “We must help fulfill the Portent Scrolls and release the waters to cleanse him.” She then looked up at the one she was referring to, Ambrosius.

  Just then, Darkmere leaped out of the water as a shot of highly pressured water hit Ambrosius in the back. Darkmere’s E’rudite abilities had mended his bones and tissues, just as he had done as the Terra King in Pyrth’s amphitheater. Reaching up, he grabbed Ambrosius’ left ankle and his right calf.

  The skin mutated in form as well as the clothes that covered Ambrosius’ lower body. Flesh and blood turned to soft rotten wood with frequent cracks and holes. The transformation raged down into the stone floor as well as up his legs.

  Ambrosius’ right hand reached for the pain racing up his leg. Upon touching it, his hand and wrist became victims of the mutation as well. His now wooden hand was stuck to his wooden trunk that rooted deep into the floor.

  “You are not as bright as I thought, brother. I would have expected you to have already figured this out. By following my trail, you have made these people’s prophecy complete and rebirth of my Kingdom can begin.”

  Grabbing Darkmere’s waist with his mind, Ambrosius began to squeeze tight, preventing any chance of escape for his brother.

  Realizing he was captured with few options, Darkmere used his powers of alteration to change his form into Ambrosius’ wife Asha. She now stood where he once did, still being compressed with her arms tight at her sides. Her long dark hair flailed about as she struggled to get free.

  Asha screamed in pain from Ambrosius’ grip. “Please dear, no!” she called out to him. Her rich brown eyes and lovely full lips begged Ambrosius to stop his attack.

  Hesitation cut Ambrosius’ focus as he saw his wife being crushed by his own powers. Understanding it was an illusion did not shield his heart from breaking at the sight of her in pain. Unfortunately, it drove deep into his emotions just long enough to allow Darkmere to break free.

  Asha’s face changed from a soft tan skin to a coarse white sand. The skin texture quickly expanded to the rest of her body and clothes. Afterward, her face changed back to Darkmere’s bony appearance, still of sand.

  Regaining control of his thoughts, Ambrosius squeezed with all his might.

  The center of Darkmere’s body rushed up and down from the point of the crushing grip. His body, now fully comprised of granular pieces had easily been displaced. Each piece of sand fell back into its normal position once Ambrosius let go.

  Ambrosius tried several more times to break or crush his brother’s body, only to see the scattering of sand that moved back afterward. He unleashed a full wall of force, knocking Darkmere against the far wall. The body parts that had been displaced from the blast quickly reunited with his main trunk.

  Darkmere laughed as he waved his minions to leave and he began to follow. “It’s too late. I have already won. Even if you were able to kill me, no one trusts you now. You have no friends, no army supporting you, no voice of power. You’re already dead.”

  The words stung more than the pain in his lower body. His mind replayed his brother’s comments as he helplessly watched Darkmere begin to leave the room.

  Ambrosius had to destroy his brother before freedom was lost forever. The only part of his brother’s white granular body that he hadn’t seen completely dissolve was his head. As he directed his E’rudite resources to crush Darkmere’s skull, a crack of unimaginable intensity was heard.

  Breaking off the remaining stone locking pins, water burst out of the doorway slamming the metal doors to each side. A gigantic wave of water rushed out, the likes of which they had never seen before. Ambrosius rotated his upper body around to face the oncoming threat. Instinctively he raised his staff with his free hand to hold the water back as hundreds of thousands of tons of pressure crashed against his invisible shield.

  Quickly slipping out a side tunnel with his minions, Darkmere escaped.

  Chapter 35
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br />   Flood Waters

 

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