Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series

by Williams, Christopher

  An enormous waterfall was off to his right. The water flowed into the cavern from somewhere high above and fell into the dark depths below. The sound of the water falling was nearly deafening and a thick watery mist hung in the air. It only took several moments before their clothes were soaked through.

  “It’s beautiful,” Flare said as he stared up dumbfounded. Never had he even imagined something like this.

  There was a stone railing that ran along the edge of the ledge and Flare stepped up and looked over. “How deep is this cavern?”

  “The bottom of this cavern is actually a lake,” came the dwarf’s reply, “the water is ice cold and the lake is very deep. There are some pretty nasty things living in the waters.”

  Flare turned to look at the dwarf. “Living in the waters?” he repeated. The mere thought sent cold chills up his back. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrors that might live in such a place.

  Belgil nodded. “There are many things living in the deep places of the world,” he grinned, “but they will not bother us up here.”

  Opening his mouth to speak, Flare froze. Luckily his dwarven escort was looking out at the waterfall and did not notice. Whatever he was about to say vanished from his mind. Something had changed. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Swallowing hard, Flare tried to reason out what it was. There was a need for something, a hunger, but he didn’t know for what. Then he remembered the last words that Pellum had spoken to him, “When it’s time to return, you will know.” With a sinking feeling he realized what the need meant. It was time for him to return to Sha’al and train with another ancient master.

  Chapter 14

  They stayed at the waterfall for nearly an hour. All the while, Flare was torn between a desire to stay and enjoy the view, and his new desire to return to Sha’al. Eventually the choice was removed from him and Belgil motioned back the way they had come.

  “I think it’s time we returned,” the dwarf said.

  Flare nodded, casting about for a way to get to a pool of water. Water was the key to his return to Sha’al. All he had to do was completely submerge himself and he would find his way to the in-between world of the dead. Turning, he followed Belgil back into the tunnel. “I was hoping that I might be allowed a bath.”

  Belgil glanced over his shoulder, the look of surprise evident on his face. “You just went yesterday.”

  “I know,” Flare said, nodding. “I’m just not ready to return to that room.”

  The dwarf studied him for a moment. “All right,” he said after a brief pause, “I still have your word that you won’t try and escape?”

  Flare nodded and followed Belgil through the tunnels. Their dwarven guards followed closely behind.

  Lost in thought, Flare was surprised when they passed the door to his cell. He had not been paying very close attention and it seemed like the return trip had only taken moments.

  “Something on your mind?” Belgil asked. He was watching Flare closely.

  “No,” Flare answered quickly. Purposefully he forced himself to speak slower. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve been distracted ever since we left the waterfall,” was the dwarf’s reply.

  That wasn’t technically correct. He had been distracted before they had left the waterfall, but Flare decided not to correct him. Instead he took a deep breath, “I just never imagined anything like that waterfall. I thank you for taking me there.”

  Belgil nodded his head, “Of course.” He paused briefly and then spoke in a quiet voice. “Not all of us agree with Councilor Emlin. Some of us don’t view you as a threat.”

  Flare bowed his head. “Thank you. I hope you’ll put in a favorable word with the king for me.”

  Belgil looked away quickly. “I would, if he still spoke to me.” He looked back at Flare, “I hope, for your sake, that your safety doesn’t depend on my relations with the king.”

  Flare exhaled deeply. “I take it that you’re not that close?”

  Chuckling, Belgil shook his head. “Not for some time.”

  Flare thought about asking the cause of their cool relations, but decided against it. So far, the dwarves had seemed very reserved and he did not think Belgil would want to pour out his history to a stranger.

  Finally they reached the doorway to the washroom. Belgil stopped and faced him. “I must leave you here,” he motioned towards the guards, “when you are done, please let the guards know and they will take you back to your room.”

  “Thank you,” Flare said. “Thank you for everything.”

  Belgil looked surprised but bowed his head. “You are quite welcome.”

  Flare opened the door and stepped into the small room. It was exactly as it had been the first time he had come here. The water in the pools was steaming and he stood just inside the door staring at the rising steam.

  The door closed with a thud, causing him to jump. Undoubtedly it was his dwarven guards.

  He turned his attention back to the water. The pools were deep enough for him to submerge himself and that was all it would take to return to Sha’al. Now that he had the opportunity, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. It was true that he had learned a great deal the last time, but the return trip had not been pleasant.

  “Nothing’s ever easy,” he mumbled.

  He moved forward, stripping his clothes off, and sat down on the edge of the nearest pool. He dangled his feet in the warm water for several moments. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do this, but it didn’t seem like he had many options. Slowly, he put his hands on either side and pushed himself into the pool.

  The water was warm and Flare let himself sink completely to the bottom. He sat there for several moments, with his eyes closed. When he got short of air, he pushed off of the bottom and rose to the surface.

  He broke through the surface of the water and, just like before, the dwarven washroom was gone. He half-way expected to be in the same place where he had trained with Gregeggor, but when he broke through the surface of the water, he realized that he had never been in this place before.

  He was in a slow moving stream that was barely twenty yards across. Even though he was in the very middle of the water, he stood up with the water only coming up to his chest. The water was dark, murky, and extremely cold. Forests stretched along both banks and a small sandbar stretched out into the stream.

  It was early morning, and the sun was not far above the trees to the east. There were few clouds and it promised to be a beautiful day. Glancing around, Flare looked to the western bank first and then to the east. There weren’t any signs of life. He chuckled at that. Probably shouldn’t be any signs of life when you were going to meet someone who had been dead for thousands of years.

  Picking the eastern bank at random, Flare waded over and emerged onto the rocky shore. It felt like early summer here. There was a slight chill in the air, but it was still early in the morning. All he had on was his small clothes and he shivered due to his being soaking wet.

  He glanced around again but didn’t see anything to tell him which way to go. Sighing, he continued up the bank to the east. Within moments, the woods had surrounded him and it was necessary for him to force his way through.

  After nearly a quarter of an hour of wandering aimlessly, Flare stopped suddenly. There was a burning smell to the air. Reaching out with his spirit, he sought the presence of anyone who might be nearby. He found someone almost immediately. Less than half a mile to the east, he could sense a presence. Sighing deeply, Flare began wading through the bushes and shoving aside limbs. He wondered if he might ever meet someone in this place that was not his teacher. It was not an altogether pleasant thought.

  Finally he emerged from the woods into a wide open clearing. In the center of the clearing was an enormous stone tower. The trees had blocked him from seeing it earlier, but now he stood there gaping at the edifice. It reached far into the sky and extended high above the tops of the trees.

  “Magnificent, isn’t it?”

&n
bsp; Flare turned his attention from the stone tower to the speaker. A man sat on a rock in front of the tower, tending a small fire. He looked to be about sixty and was in good shape for his age. He was thin but with a dark complexion that could only have come from spending time in the sun. He had a head full of stark white hair and a neat and well trimmed beard.

  “Who are you?” Flare asked before he thought better. It wasn’t exactly the most courtly way of introducing oneself.

  The man smiled. “My name is Mortimer Willimon and it is my responsibility to teach you wizardry.”

  A chill ran down Flare’s spine and he didn’t say anything for a moment. He knew this was coming, but he had assumed that wizardry would be one of the last things he would learn. He wasn’t ready to learn summoning, he just wasn’t. “Wizardry?” He finally managed to ask. The word come out in a breathless sort of way.

  Mortimer’s smile grew. “Yes. Have you ever met a wizard before?”

  Flare shook his head. “No, I haven’t. In my time wizardry has been outlawed by the Church of Adel. No one practices it anymore.”

  The wizard’s appearance grew stern at these words. “Outlawed?” he repeated quietly. “What about that order of yours? Don’t they still practice it?”

  Flare shook his head. “There hasn’t been a member of the Dragon Order for nearly two thousands years. I am seeking to be the first.”

  Mortimer looked shocked at that, but he recovered quickly. He motioned at a smaller stone that was on the opposite side of the fire. “Put those clothes on and then have a seat.”

  For the first time, Flare noticed the small pile of roughly woven clothes that sat on the small stone. He quickly put them on and then sat and waited expectantly. He wasn’t sure what to say and felt it best to just wait for the Master to speak.

  “So there are no more wizards?” Mortimer asked at last. “Do you know anything about summoning?”

  Choosing his words carefully, Flare answered, “I know that wizards create doors to other planes of existence. They use fire to summon demons and for a long time I thought that was all they did, but I have since learned that they use water to summon spirits. I can only assume that the other three elements also are used to summon things.” He looked up from the fire and met the Master’s eyes, “I cannot imagine what those other things might be,” he admitted.

  Mortimer nodded. “You are quite right. Demons are summoned through fire and spirits through water,” the old wizard grinned and Flare was sure he was enjoying himself. “You are also correct in that the other three elements are used to summon different things.” He rubbed his hands together, “This is a perfect time for your first lesson.”

  Flare took a deep breath. It wasn’t easy to go against years of superstition and fear, but he had already started down that path and he couldn’t stop now. Nodding, he said, “I’m ready.”

  “Air is used to summon another location,” Mortimer said slowly. “It is used to journey from one place to another but on the same plane of existence.”

  “Sounds useful,” Flare said and he meant it. If he understood correctly, then no longer would it take weeks or months to travel from one city to another. Thousands of leagues could be travelled in one day.

  Mortimer smiled. “Spirit is used to summon visions. The visions can be of the past, present, or future.”

  “Future?” Flare repeated astounded. “Is that really possible?”

  “Of course, but you can not always trust the visions. Sometimes the future is only a possible future and is not yet set. You could cause the very things you’ve seen to come about by trying to prevent them.”

  Frowning, Flare considered. This one seemed a lot less helpful than the ability to travel great distances in a day.

  Noticing Flare’s frown, Mortimer nodded his head. “Summoning visions is difficult at best. Most wizards chose not to even bother.”

  Flare nodded and then quickly ran through the list of elements. There was only one element left. “And what of earth?”

  Mortimer took a deep breath. “Earth is probably the most powerful, but also the most deadly.” He paused to make sure that he had Flare’s complete attention and then continued, “Earth is used to summon life.”

  Flare cocked his head to one side, “I don’t understand. What do you mean summon life?”

  “A person’s life force can be transferred from one individual to another. A small amount can be transferred to help another person recover from a sickness or injury, or that person can be drained completely, thereby killing them. Some wizards have dramatically extended their lives by summoning the life force of others.”

  Silence descended while Flare considered that last bit of information. Finally he said, “That sounds like something evil.”

  “It can be,” Mortimer agreed, “but not necessarily. For instance, one of the more common uses of this type of summoning is to execute a sentence on a prisoner.” He paused, glancing up to make sure that Flare was still following along. “Surely you would not think it horrible to take the life force from a convicted murderer?”

  Flare considered this for a moment in silence. “Perhaps,” he said finally, although it still felt dark and dangerous.

  “Do not worry,” Mortimer said, smiling. “We will not be doing any earth summoning for sometime.” He motioned to the small fire that lay between them. “Our first practical lesson will be to summon a small imp. You must never do this without my supervision,” he added, his appearance turning stern. “You might accidentally summon something which you are unprepared to handle. Do you understand?” Flare nodded, but Mortimer did not immediately proceed. “This is important. You are not to try anything without my express permission. Do you understand?”

  Sensing that this was serious and potentially very dangerous, Flare nodded again. “While we are training, I will not go beyond the boundaries that you have set for me.”

  Nodding, the wizard continued to stare at Flare for several more moments, as if to enforce the dangerous nature of summoning. Finally, he lowered his gaze to the fire. “I am going to stare into the fire and allow my eyes to un-focus.”

  Mortimer did indeed stare into the fire for several moments, but Flare was at a complete loss as to what he was doing.

  The wizard was silent for several moments. He just sat there staring into the fire. Then something happened. Flare felt something like a booming vibration run through his body. He glanced up at Mortimer but the wizard was still staring at the fire. Finally, Mortimer spoke again and now his voice was detached and distant. “Ziteul! Come forth!”

  Flare’s first thought was what in the name of the gods was a Ziteul, but that thought was driven from his mind as a small grayish head emerged from the fire. A little figure pulled itself up, holding on to flaming logs as it did so. It was small, probably not reaching a man’s knee, and it was horribly ugly. The small creature had gray skin that covered its body and looked incredibly thick. Two small horns protruded from the top of the being’s head and a two-foot tail whipped back and forth like a cat’s.

  Cursing, Flare fell back from the fire in surprise. He landed on his back and began scooting backwards away from the fire. He didn’t stop until his back hit the wall of the tower. The five feet from him to the monster hardly seemed enough.

  The small gray being turned its attention to Flare. It grinned wickedly, showing a large number of small sharp teeth. It leaned forward as if to pounce.

  “Ziteul, restrain yourself.”

  The creature froze perched on its toes, like it wanted to jump at Flare but something held it back.

  “By all that’s holy,” Flare exclaimed, his eyes wide. “What is that thing?”

  Mortimer stood and walked around the fire. “This is Ziteul. He’s a small imp that I summoned many times when I lived.”

  Ziteul watched Mortimer’s slow circle of the fire and there was a definite anger in his eyes. He gave off the appearance of wanting to rip the wizard open with his teeth.

  “An imp
?” Flare repeated dully. His eyes were still wide and his head seemed full of wool.

  “Yes,” Mortimer answered, his eyes still on the imp. “Imps are lesser demons and they will be the only thing you summon for quite some time.” Mortimer’s eyes flicked to where Flare sat in the dirt. “Are you all right?”

  Nodding, Flare pushed himself to his feet and stared down at the imp. He swallowed hard. It hardly seemed possible that he was standing in the presence of a demon, much less a wizard.

  “I am controlling it through the projection of my will,” Mortimer said quietly. “That is the nature of wizardry.”

  Flare nodded and then cast around for something to say. He wanted to appear intelligent in front of his new master. “Is this the same process for all demons?”

  “Hardly. Only lesser demons can be controlled solely by the will of the wizard. More powerful demons require other means.”

  Flare slowly turned his head to look at Mortimer, “What other means?”

  The wizard smiled, “All in good time.” He moved closer and began wiping dirt from Flare’s clothes. “Did you feel a silent pounding?”

  “I felt, something,” Flare said after a moment. He wasn’t sure what to call it though. “It caused my whole body to vibrate.”

  Mortimer nodded, “That was my will being directed into the portal that the fire created. Between the fire and my will, I was able to force little Ziteul here to come to me.”

  Flare glanced back at the little monster and shivered.

  Grinning, the wizard returned to his seat on the stone. He motioned for Flare to do so as well.

  Swallowing hard, Flare did as instructed. He would have preferred to remain standing against the wall. At least over there he had a good five feet between himself and Ziteul. He slowly slid back onto the small stone, all the while, Ziteul continued to watch him. The little beast seemed to take great delight in leering, most likely so that he could show his wicked little teeth. He was still grinning when Mortimer called his name. The grin slipped and was replaced by a child-like stubbornness.