The Legend of Drak'Noir: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 3)

by Michael James Ploof

  Suddenly concerned, Hinckley pushed open the doors and stepped outside. He had barely registered the absurdity of what was occurring in front of his eyes when a wet cat landed on his pointed hat, crushing it flat and scratching at his face. Hinckley grabbed the animal and tried to pry it off as he danced around frantically, but the wet, scared cat dug its nails into his hat and refused to let go.

  “Let me help,” said the young wizard, and before Hinckley could argue, a foot found his chest as the young wizard took hold of the soggy pussycat and began to yank.

  All the while, the cat mewled and hissed and growled, its claws scratching Hinckley’s head through the punctured hat.

  “Abite!” said Hinckley, pushing his arms outward as he cast his repelling spell.

  Both the cat and the young wizard were cast away from him, as well as the rain falling and that at his feet. Hinckley fixed his hat and surveyed the chaos. To his disbelief, cats and dogs were falling from the sky like rain, but they did not hit the ground with a splat; rather, they fell slowly, like fat, lazy snowflakes, and landed wet and bewildered. Thunder and lightning stirred them into a frenzy. Cats clambered up the robes of witches and wizards who were trying to get the animals under control. Dogs sped around in circles or darted for the nearest open door or dry enclave. The animals were a wet and wild mob; they overturned tables and knocked over small statues, crashed through doors and leapt through windows. Chaos reigned in the college of Kazam, and Hinckley knew that only one wizard could be responsible for such a ridiculous attack: Kazimir.

  A pack of at least twenty dogs chased twice as many cats into the antechamber, nearly sending Hinckley on his backside. He turned and aimed his wand at the horde and released a spell that would cause paralysis. The dogs and cats froze in their tracks and slid into the opposite wall, where they jammed up like logs upon the rocks of a river.

  Hinckley closed the door and began yelling commands to the other wizards, some of whom were only apprentices and were using all kinds of feeble or unnecessary spells on the scared animals. The young wizard he had sent flying through the air was now up, casting freezing spells at the cats and dogs so recklessly that a streaking spell came right at Hinckley’s head. He quickly blocked and absorbed the spell with his wand before firing back with a stunning spell that gave the young wizard a small jolt in the backside.

  “Use the paralasis neverendi,” said Hinckley. “And be careful where you’re aiming that wand!”

  The college lurched to the side suddenly, tilting a few degrees, which was enough to make people grab ahold of something solid.

  “Magic’s sake!” said Hinckley. “They’re in the control room!”

  He hurried through the back door, past the stiff animals, down a flight of stairs, and down the long hall leading to the control room. The floor was slick with rain from the cats and dogs who had barreled through, and Hinckley slipped more than once as he rushed to the open door. It should have been closed and locked with metal and magic, but it was wide open.

  Inside, he found the three pilots fighting off the frantic animals. The cats climbed the walls and raced across the control panels, flipping dials and spinning levers, causing the floating college to rise and fall by dozens of feet.

  “Nervorum resolutiones!” said Hinckley, extending the spell to everything in the room.

  The humans, cats, and dogs all went stiff as a board and fell over.

  Hinckley looked through the glass at the stormy world outside, and to his horror, he saw that the college was careening toward a mountainside. He looked at the dials, levers, and switches, and not knowing exactly what needed to be done, he tapped each of the pilots with his wand, telling them calmly to right the disk.

  They rushed to their stations, and the lead pilot yelled, “Give me altitude, and fast!”

  The one to his left flipped a switch, turned a dial, and pulled back on a large metal wheel.

  “I need speed!” said the lead pilot, and the one to his right pushed forward a lever.

  Through the long bay window, Hinckley saw the mountain range disappear beneath them. He turned to the hologram at the center of the room and watched as a representation of the disk the college sat upon barely grazed the peak of a mountain.

  The college rumbled, and there was a small jolt as it sheared off the very tip of the mountaintop.

  The pilots breathed a sigh of relief, and Hinckley moved in front of them all. “How on Earth did they get in here?” he asked, pointing at the petrified animals.

  “It was my fault,” said the lead pilot, one Darren V’arren. “I opened the door to see what the commotion was.”

  “Did anyone here tell you to stop, that it was against protocol to open the door to the control room during an event?”

  “Both of my co-pilots warned me against it,” said the man, head bowed.

  “Lucky for them,” said Hinckley, turning his disappointed glare at them both in turn. “They will only be suspended from their posts. But you are fired. You nearly got us all killed. Get this damned vessel stable, and you will be relieved shortly.”

  “Yes, Headmaster,” said the two co-pilots, but the lead pilot said nothing.

  “Did you hear what I just said?”

  The lead pilot looked up at Hinckley with anger burning in his eyes. “With all due respect, Headmaster Hinckley, it was a mistake.”

  Hinckley slowly walked toward the wizard and stopped before him. “And when you are responsible for the lives of hundreds, there is no room for mistakes, especially ones as trivial as opening the godsdamned door during an emergency. But this is neither the time nor the place. There will be a full investigation, and the high council will hear your argument, but I doubt their decision will be different from mine. Now get out of my control room.”

  “Yes, Headmaster,” said the lead pilot through clenched teeth.

  Chapter 36

  Not Another Speech!

  The elevator stopped with a sudden jolt, and the metal door creaked open slowly, mournfully. Sir Eldrick crossed the threshold first, hand on hilt and shield leading the way. Murland came next, with the wand of Kazam clutched in his left hand. Packy’s wings beat slowly, as if the backpack was aware of the danger and ready to react quickly. Brannon followed, clutching his hilt and holding his seeds at the ready. Gibrig and his golden shield emerged from the elevator slowly, cautiously. Willow popped the rest of the buffalo jerky in her mouth and slapped her club against her hand. She burped and followed her friends into the unknown. Every one of them glowed light blue as Murland’s freshly laid wards set in. The spell was simple, and promised to protect reasonably well against just about any kind of attack, be it magical, mental, spiritual, or physical. But the ward was only as powerful as Murland, and he warned the others not to rely too much on it. Hopefully it would protect them against Kazimir’s initial attack, giving them one chance to strike.

  In the end, they were at the mercy of the darklings, for if the spirits had been lying to them, the champions were likely doomed.

  The elevator had brought them to the outer rim of the flat mountaintop, which had been carved out, for an archway stood waiting for them. Darkness lay beyond. Sir Eldrick turned to them with shimmering eyes and held his torch above his head so that they might see each other clearly.

  “Here we are,” he said. His smile grew, but there was a forlorn quality to it. “It has been a long road. Indeed, one of the most adventurous quests that I have ever been on. I know that I have said it before, but I’ll say it again. You are the finest companions that an old drunken knight could ever ask for, and there is no one that I would rather have at my side in battle. I would follow you all to the gates of hell. Thank you for your friendship.”

  “That sounds too much like a goodbye,” said Gibrig, wiping his eye. “But I agree. When I was chosen by Kazimir, I didn’t understand why I was chosen. Ya’ll be better fighters and adventurers than me, but ye made me feel like I was yer equal. And ain’t no one but me pa and Gillrog ever made me feel
that way. I love ye all.”

  Brannon sniffled and wiped his nose on his dirty sleeve. He looked nothing like the shiny elf prince who had set out for Bad Mountain with too much luggage. His hands were rough, his nails short and thick and dirty. His clothes were soiled from the road and well worn. His hair was greasy and his makeup was smeared, but his eyes were alive with worldly knowledge, and the wisdom of mortality and age. There was a kindness there as well, one that softened his sharp features. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, looking to the dark, churning clouds above with watering eyes. “I was horrible to you all for so long, yet you all call me friend. You’ve shown me that anything is possible, and for the first time in my life, I can say that I actually like myself. No matter what happens on the other side of that archway, I wouldn’t take any of it back for the world.”

  “Neither would I,” said Murland. “Until I was chosen for this suicide quest, my life wasn’t going anywhere. I was the laughing stock of Abra Tower. Hells, I couldn’t even wipe my nose with magic.”

  They all gave a little laugh, which felt good. If they could laugh while they stood at the door of the beast, then there was hope yet.

  “You’ve all helped me to realize my true potential, and I will be forever grateful,” said Murland.

  Gibrig gave him a hug as well, and Sir Eldrick patted him on the back.

  They all looked to Willow, who seemed pre-occupied by the jerky that she was gnawing on. She stopped and glanced around self-consciously before putting the food away. “I love all you crazy nannywiggins too. Now let’s go kick some wizard ass!”

  “Hoorah!” Sir Eldrick cried, unsheathing his fae blade and thrusting it into the air triumphantly.

  They all gave their own respective battle cries before following their fearless leader through the archway and into the lair of the beast.

  ***

  Kazimir paced back and forth before Valkimir, Hagus, Dingleberry, Akitla, and Wendel. They remained chained in their glowing energy prisons, where they had been held for weeks. Kazimir glanced at his watch every few seconds, clearly agitated.

  “Your friends are cutting it mighty close,” he said to the group.

  Valkimir stared at the crackling portal at the center of the stone chamber cut into the top of the mountain. “They will come, and you will regret not working with us.” He turned to face the wizard and looked upon him with pity. “You know, it is not too late.”

  “You sound like the rest of the fools,” said Kazimir with a sneer. “Behold,” he said, pointing at the elliptical portal, which resembled a cat’s eye. “Drak’Noir waits on the other side. As we speak, the last remnants of the spell that I cast twenty-seven years ago are dying out. If the spell is not performed tonight, she will emerge. Every army in the world could not stop her. For she is eternal, she is inevitable…”

  “Ye know what be inevitable?” said Hagus. “Me stringin’ ye up by yer old saggy balls. That’s what be inevitable.”

  Wendel erupted with cackling laughter, which soon turned to tears.

  “Big-big mistake you make, big-big!” said Dingleberry. “The champ-champs are going to come, and when they do-do—”

  “You know,” said Akitla, laying a dangerously frosty gaze on the wizard. “When male…what is the word? Balls? When they are frozen to sub-zero temperatures, they shatter into a thousand pieces with but a touch.”

  “Will you all please shut up!” said Kazimir, and he glanced at his watch again. “Ah,” he said, his anger turning to joy. “The dimwits have finally arrived. It looks as though I will not have to sacrifice you after all.”

  ***

  Caressa paced the room. Benjamin should have come by now. She moved to the window and looked to the moon—it was the day of the solstice, and the full moon glowed brightly in the eye of the swirling storm, the only celestial body to be seen through the gray clouds. Lightning flashed, startling her, and she realized that she had to relax. She took three deep breaths and let them out slowly. She focused her mind and tried to release the pent-up tension in her shoulders.

  A knock came at the door, and all tension returned in the form of a heart palpitation.

  “Come in!” she blurted, but then said more calmly, “come in.”

  Benjamin entered the room, looking ashen, and swiftly closed the door behind him.

  “What took you so long? What’s going on?” she asked, rushing across the room to take his hands, which proved to be quite clammy.

  “I had to help gramps with the spell. Sorry.”

  “Then they have arrived?”

  He nodded.

  Caressa bit her thumbnail and paced a wide circle.

  “Are you sure that we should do this?” said Benjamin. “I mean, my grandfather is the most powerful wizard of our age.”

  “You are wrong! His time has passed. There is another who will surpass him in time.”

  “You mean your friend Murland?”

  “This is your chance, Benjamin. Please don’t fail me now.”

  He let out a deep breath and looked to the floor.

  “I need you, Benji. Fallacetine needs you. Your grandfather is not a good man. He has led dozens of innocent people to their deaths. The threat that is Drak’Noir will never go away, not until someone defeats her once and for all.”

  “But you don’t understand what she is.”

  “Do you?” Caressa asked.

  He shrugged. “Gramps talks a lot. He says that she is the embodiment of darkness. He says that he is the only thing standing between the life and death of this world.”

  “Do you believe him?” she asked, feeling fear growing inside her.

  “I don’t know, but he believes it. I know he does.”

  Caressa gave a sigh and felt hopelessness begin to grow within her. “No,” she said, throwing back her shoulders and raising her chin. “I refuse to believe that.”

  “Refusing to believe that humans can’t fly has never stopped a man from falling to his death.”

  “Surely you are not that cynical,” said Caressa, looking him in the eye and holding him easily in her gaze. “I don’t see a cynic standing before me. I see someone who never got a chance to realize his true potential. I see a kind young man eager to hope, eager to love. I see a young man—”

  Benjamin suddenly kissed her. Caressa’s eyes widened, but she quickly shut them and imagined Murland, knowing that the kiss needed to seem real. But wasn’t it? She felt a rush of excitement when Benjamin’s warm lips touched hers. She felt the smoothness of his skin, the sweetness of his tongue…

  Guilt suddenly plagued her, but she did not pull away. She allowed him to reach around the small of her back and pull her in, and her hands found his long hair. His other hand moved to her neck, and then moved down, down, down.

  “We cannot!” she finally said as she pulled away.

  He looked like a man who had been caught watching the queen undress. “I…I…I,” he stammered.

  “It was my fault,” she said, clutching her chest and raising a staying hand. “I’m just so afraid. And I thought, well, I thought that you…”

  “I will,” he said, reaching for her.

  “You’re probably just playing with my heart, aren’t you?” she said, wiping away a fake tear.

  “No, no, of course not,” he said desperately. “I’m nothing like Kazimir. I swear it.”

  “Words are one thing,” she said, biting her lip. “But actions are another.”

  “I will do it. Princess…I would do anything for you.”

  “Even the impossible?”

  “Even the impossible,” he said, nodding stoically.

  She felt like a shit for leading him on like this, but it had to be done. She told herself so, but she knew that indeed, she would break his poor heart.

  A real tear came to her eye, and she smiled upon him.

  “You’re a good man,” she said. “I think that perhaps I will knight you someday.”

  “Do you mean that?” he said, eyes e
ager and unbelieving.

  “No,” she said at length. She straightened. “I shall do it now. Give me a sword and take a knee.”

  He stared at her, dumbfounded. “Can a princess do that?”

  “I am acting on behalf of my father during this quest. His will is mine, and mine is his. Kneel, Benjamin Rimizak.”

  He knelt, and his eyes filled with tears of pride. He handed her a short sword with a hilt of smooth bone set with a single brilliant ruby.

  “Benjamin Rimizak. By the power bestowed upon me and my family by the people of Magestra, and before the gods and devils alike, I dub thee Sir Benjamin Rimizak of Magestra.” She touched the flat of the blade to the top of his head, followed by the right shoulder and then the left, and finally handed the weapon back.

  He took it with trembling hands, as though it were a priceless relic bestowed upon him by the gods.

  “I am honored, my liege,” he said with an awkward bow.

  “I am honored to have you. And you know…you are the first man that I have ever…knighted.”

  “Then I am doubly honored,” he said.

  She smiled down on him and gestured for him to stand. When he did so, he stood straighter than she had ever seen.

  “Now, my knight,” she said with all seriousness. “Help me to free my friends.”

  Chapter 37

  We Get by with a Little Help from Our Friends

  The champions rushed through the archway and came to a skidding stop. Before them, at the center of an open-aired chamber, hovered a twenty-foot-tall portal. It sliced through the fabric of reality like lightning and hummed menacingly. Overhead, the full moon shone through the eye of a tempest, which swirled violently and rumbled with thunder. To the right, Valkimir, Hagus, Akitla, Dingleberry, and Wendel floated inside oval energy prisons. To the left, Kazimir leaned against a staff, tapping his watch.