by Marc Johnson
“I suppose the real reason was that Tara looked up to me. I didn’t want to let her down. She was much younger than you are now—about ten or eleven—with beautiful blond hair. She often came to see me, constantly smiling and asking questions. She was like an annoying little sister, but I sensed there was a great power in her waiting to be released.” He created a flame and boiled the pieces of a plant in a liquid over the fire.
“What…happened…to her?” I looked with fascination at my now-pale hands.
“Don’t worry, my boy, I’m almost done. As I was saying, I had her perform the same ritual you did just now. It went quite well, but in the back of my mind, I sensed something wasn’t completely right. I should have listened to myself.” Master Stradus picked up the bowl and said, “Oh spirits, please alleviate the curse that was put upon the boy. Bless this potion. Here, drink this.”
The potion was warm and sweet, and I guzzled it. It was far better than the potion I had drunk earlier to summon that one-eyed freak. It took a few moments, but I stopped shaking, my body warmed up, and my stomach and head stopped swirling. I smiled and took a deep breath, watching the goose bumps disappear from my arms.
“Thank you, Master.”
“I’m just glad you’re better,” he said. “If that maleika had had more time it would have done worse.” Master Stradus sighed. “I suppose I should get back to my story.”
I handed his staff back to him and said, “You don’t have to.”
He grabbed it with a shaky hand. “No. I want to. I should.” He gazed into the distance. “After the ritual, we ate and went to sleep. During the night, the maleika attacked me, draining me of my life force and taking my magic. It was much stronger than any maleika I had encountered before. I was able to get that cursed thing off but I couldn't banish it.” His voice became hoarse and his face tightened. “As I should have.
“I told Tara to run for cover while I worked on a stronger spell. But she was too stubborn. She thought we’d be able to finish it off together. The thing was too quick, and smothered her head.”
Just as it had done to me. I shivered. I had a feeling this story wasn’t going to end as well as mine.
“I was afraid to attack it while it was on her, so I tried to finish the ritual again.” Master Stradus's focus rested on me, his blue eyes piercing me. “If something goes wrong, retrace your steps, use your strongest mana, and finish the spell again.”
I nodded.
“Good. I said the banishing words, pouring all my strength into them, and it loosened its grip. I used the rest of my strength to summon a holy lightning bolt, nailing it right in the eye. The maleika howled and howled until it vanished. I hoped it had died when it went back to the Netherrealm, but I was never sure.” Master Stradus was quiet for a few moments. He stroked the globe on his staff, staring off into the distance. I could see the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to contain his feelings.
“I rushed over to Tara to check if she was still” —he paused and swallowed— “alive. She looked one last time into my eyes, and then she was gone. I tried desperately to heal her with my magic. I had none left.”
Master Stradus’s cloudy eyes were heavy with regret and remembrance. I now understood why he was so hard on me in lessons, and why he got upset when I tried to undo his web. He didn't want anything to happen to me. I was a fool to keep disobeying him. I had needed a reminder that magic, no matter how simple it may seem, was a great responsibility and should be taken seriously. No matter how badly I wanted to see my mother and how much I missed her, she would be disappointed to know the risk I took to do it.
“After I buried Tara,” he continued, “I became so enraged that I summoned maleika after maleika, trying to find the one that killed her. I never found it. The other maleika either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell me what I needed to know. I…lost my temper and killed dozens of innocent maleika. It wasn’t their fault she was dead. It was mine.” The globe on top of Master Stradus's staff darkened. His hands reddened as he tightened his grip. I watched as the globe swirled and his power continued to build. The air around us became heavy and violent.
Master Stradus took a deep breath. His power dissipated as he calmed himself. “I continued to summon one every year on the anniversary of her death in hopes I’d be lucky. I never saw it again until now.”
Master Stradus's blue eyes focused on me again, and his voice became firm. “While you're in this mountain and under my tutelage, I expect you to do everything I say. It's not because I enjoy telling you what to do. Magic is very dangerous, Hellsfire. Even if you think you're doing everything right, things can still go wrong.”
“But I wanted to see my mother.” I bit my lip and looked down in shame when I saw how exasperated he looked. “I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have performed the ritual after you said no.”
“Quite right.” His eyes softened. “I was terrified when I saw the same maleika doing the same thing it did so many years ago.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “I'm glad to see you're all right now, my boy.”
I nodded. “Me too.” I couldn't resist the impulse to hug him, burying myself in his sky blue robes.
Master Stradus's muscles tightened in surprise. He relaxed and returned the hug. We embraced for several long moments before he broke it. He cleared his throat. “I don't want you to do anything like that again, Hellsfire.”
“I won't.”
“I'm serious.”
Our eyes met, and I said, “So am I.”
“Good. Now, all things considered, you did a good job.”
“I did?”
“Yes. You successfully summoned a maleika. If it hadn’t been that one, things might have gone better. I promise you, you'll get to summon more to check on your mother and those you care about.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Now go to bed. It's late.”
I yawned and put a hand to my mouth. I left him and walked to the door. “Good night, Master.”
“Good night, Hellsfire. One last thing.”
I stopped and turned to face him, holding the door open. “Yes?”
“Sleep well while you can. Tomorrow, you have to get up early and sweep the entire cave.”
----
Before that day, I never knew Master Stradus had a pupil before me, but I suppose it was natural. He had lived for a millennium, or close to it, and I never fully realized all the things he must have gone through. He must have had some great adventures, yet he also must have witnessed many tragic events.
Coming to the White Mountain, I had thought I was only going to learn to control my powers so I wouldn't hurt anyone again. But as I mastered it, I found I enjoyed using my gift of magic. I no longer thought of it as a curse.
I understood the basics of magic and what it could do, but I had never thought of the pain it could bring. Not just in hurting someone, but in not being able to do something. Master Stradus's lesson taught me that. No matter how much power I had, it might not be enough. I might also live longer than those I cared about, powerless to do anything except watch them grow old and die. Being a wizard was a far grander undertaking than I originally thought, but also far more daunting. And there was still that prophecy about me, which he never gave me any more details about.
After my mishap with the maleika, I read more about other types of beings who existed in the Netherrealm, or at least I tried to. The very few books Master Stradus had were either vague, or a bunch of dry theories on how, what, or why. After sifting through a lot of information, I realized that all the books came to the same conclusion: if you wanted to know about other worlds and beings from those worlds, you’d have to summon a creature from there, which might be very hard to control, and might kill you—or worse. Or you could cross over yourself—if you were able to, and lucky enough to make it back; or find a rare crosswalker, who could go into the Netherrealm with ease. In the end, I gave up. I had no plans to go over into the Netherrealm. However, if I ever saw that one-eyed monste
r again, I was going to finish what my master started.
----
Another year passed. A side consequence of my becoming a wizard was that my appetite for meat soon vanished, until I could no longer eat it. Master Stradus told me it was a consequence of being able to access mana.
I learned more magic and read a lot more. I studied more of the plants that were in the garden. Master Stradus was true to his word, and we regularly checked what happened in Sedah by using maleika. I wished my mother could have seen me or that I could have talked to her. Not even magic could help with that. I also got to practice other rituals.
As much as I enjoyed being around Master Stradus and Cynder and performing magic, there was something missing. No matter how many times I summoned a maleika or went outside the caves, I still felt confined. Every day, the walls and ceiling moved an inch closer. If that wasn't bad enough, the books I read, along with Master Stradus and Cynder regaling me with stories, made me wish I was outside of the White Mountain to experience all the things they had. I often thought about leaving, even though my training wasn’t complete.
Just to make sure, I asked both Master Stradus and Cynder about how my skills were progressing. Master Stradus was pleased with my progress, while Cynder thought I was merely adequate. I knew I still had a lot to learn from them, but being cooped up in the mountain wasn't going to help. All of my lessons suggested that people learned from the situations they encountered, not from being in a classroom. Even back when there was a wizard's school, students were deliberately put into dangerous and stressful situations. There was nothing like that here. I didn't know if Master Stradus designed it that way on purpose, or to shield me.
It had been centuries since Master Stradus last took on an apprentice. While his last pupil hadn’t come to as tragic an end as Tara, things went sour. Maybe he just wasn’t good with apprentices.
These questions and thoughts filled my head for months. I tried to weigh the cost of staying versus the cost of going. As I had found out the hard way when I first used my powers, it was a perilous world out there. Like poison, the doubt and introspection seeped their way into my everyday tasks, until they were all I could think about. Unfortunately, my lessons and studying were affected. I couldn't even talk to Cynder because he wouldn't understand. Being here was his honorable duty. He was our master’s guardian, and, because of conditions amongst his own people, he had nowhere else to go.
I tried to overlook these things. I tried to remind myself I could still be killed if I left without the proper training. But little by little, those sensible thoughts were drowned out until they no longer mattered.
And then, I had a vision.
CHAPTER 9
I sat crossed-legged on the edge of a ridge near the peak of the White Mountain. Nightfall engulfed me and the snow swirled around me. Often, after a day's training, I would find myself out here, escaping the confinement of the caves. It had helped at first. I breathed a little easier seeing the blue sky, the green forests, and the brown earth far below. But lately, being trapped so high above it all, I found those same sights depressing. The world's changing seasons reminded me that time moved on, while I was stuck in unending winter. The only way I knew time had passed was that Cynder teased me about my deepening voice, my sleeves exposed too much of my wrists, and I no longer had to look up at Master Stradus to meet his eyes.
Being outside also served another purpose. At first, I used practicing my power as an excuse to be outside. That's what I told Master Stradus I was doing. As time went on, my lie became the truth. Without my power, the weather would have torn me apart. As when I first climbed the mountain, I accessed my power and held onto it, letting it seep into every pore and warm my body. At first, it tired me just standing there. The more I went outside, the easier it became, until I sat on the ledge in the cold storm for hours.
I closed my eyes, ignoring the cold and frost that surrounded me. My breathing and heart slowed until I drowned the growl of the weather outside my body. I journeyed inside myself, heading towards the inner fire. The red and orange flame danced, moving and twisting like a firefly in the moonlight. It filled my very essence with its own. It was a strange yet familiar sensation, like we belonged together, as if we'd always been one. The flame changed colors, from a natural red and orange to an intense blue and black. The power surged within me. I knew I could do anything. But I was afraid the power would overwhelm me if I tried.
I held it for as long as I could. I got lost in it, and it became something else.
A baby eagle stands by his mother on the edge of a cliff. The mother nudges the baby with her beak, encouraging him to abandon the ledge and fly. The eaglet squawks in protest, but his mother forces him over the edge, sending him plummeting toward the ground. The baby eagle falls fast, flapping his wings in vain. The momentum is too great for him to handle. He’s going to crash into the ground. At the last second, his little wings catch the wind. He soars higher, higher into the open sky. He circles once, taking a last look at his mother, then heads off toward the horizon.
The eaglet changes shape. He’s no longer a feathered bird, but a bird made of fire, igniting the entire sky. His trail spells out my name as he soars towards me. He stares at me and gives an ear-shattering cry, shaking the heavens and the afterlife. He darts at my chest, burrowing and burning his way inside. I cry out as he fills me with power. Fire spews out of my eyes and mouth until I'm forced out of my trance.
I gazed up into the night sky, unsure of what I had seen. Everything I’d read about visions raced through my mind. Was I the eaglet? What was the vision telling me? A bright star streaked across the sky, and it looked like the baby bird.
I was still pondering over the meaning of my vision when another one flooded my mind. It was so forceful and strong I toppled over, face in the snow, and I blacked out.
The inferno erupts in front of me, gliding and floating in mid-air. I open my hand, and the fire leaps into it. I can sense its immense power, its scorching heat, and yet to me, it only feels warm. The flame rolls over me and caresses my skin. Its movement matches my breathing. I force my hand to remain steady. The fire disappears, melting into my body, adding its strength to my own. My inner-mana swirls with exultation. I no longer feel cold and alone. I feel alive and powerful. I can do anything.
My hand explodes. I hiss and turn my head to shield my eyes. A flame frees itself from my body and ruptures into a ball the size of my head. I stare at the renegade flame. It shifts and transforms, slowly changing into something recognizable. It looks like a human head but with wild, swaying hair.
The longer I gaze at it, the slower it burns, revealing itself piece by piece. The outline of a face appears, two gaping holes for eyes. The intense reds and oranges soften, peeling back until their colors change to flesh. The eyes burn hotter, hotter, until their centers grow blue, then purple.
And I recognize the face. It is her. She has haunted my dreams since the day we met. Drifting through my mind, planting herself into my thoughts until she gained a foothold. She has guided me in my most stressful times, helping me when I struggled with grasping a mana or saying an incantation. I have used her memory as fuel for what I have to do lest people like her get hurt. I have never known if I would never see her again, but I could never forget those soft violet eyes.
“Krystal,” I whisper.
The darkness crushes the fire’s light. The flame fights, burning as brightly as it can, but it’s no match for the darkness. The princess's face disappears. The fire changes, burning with dark flames. It contains hulking, ferocious monsters. They're drenched in blood, with bodies strewn around them. Innocent people run through the smoke, screaming to get away, but they're cut down by the creatures. I close my hand to get rid of the images, and the fire burns my skin.
I can't shake it off. When I move, it sears my unburned skin. I hold it still, fearful of the pain. It forces me to watch murders and mutilations, death and destruction. My anger increases with every child chopped
down. I'm powerless to stop it.
Those images vanish, changing into a small figure cloaked in black robes. The fire in my hand no longer burns with warmth, instead turning as icy as death. A small flame splits off from the larger one. Two purple eyes stare from the small flame to the darker flame. The bigger fire swirls around her until it douses her.
“Krystal!” I shout.
The ink-black flames turn towards me. Two icy eyes peer back at me.
I woke up to find my cheek buried in the snow. I peeled myself from the ground and wiped the frost from my cheek. There was red on my fingertips. Blood—leaking from my nose. I forced myself to stand, head pounding.
I stared into the darkness, towards Alexandria. My bones ached with dread. The princess was in trouble, but I wasn't sure how or why. If Alexandria had fallen, we surely would have heard about it, even cooped up in the White Mountain. Wouldn’t we?
I thought about leaving the mountain to see if everything was all right, but what could I do to help the princess and her kingdom? I wasn’t combat ready. I needed to finish my studies. I tried to dismiss what I’d seen as an unhealthy obsession with that beautiful girl, but as soon as I did, the pain in my head returned and the images from my visions flooded my mind. I collapsed to my knees, blood from my nose splashing across the snow in front of me. I cried out in agony, clutching the snow. What was wrong with me?
I crawled towards the cave entrance. Each time I tried to get up, the pain shoved me back down into the snow. It wasn't until I let the visions flood my mind once more, and thought of going to the princess, that my jumbled mind became clear. The pain disappeared. I breathed easier. The agony was replaced by a moment of perfect clarity. I knew what to do. The vision was a sign.
I had to trust it. I had to leave.
Where I came from didn't matter. Who I was didn't matter. I was going to help the princess if she needed my help. I prayed to the gods I was wrong, and that my fears were for naught.