The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  ‘Welcome to the Scroll of Life,’ Menin announced proudly.

  ‘Where is it?’ Coinin asked, looking around.

  ‘It’s right there in front of you.’

  ‘All I see is a golden tree.’ Coinin shrugged.

  ‘Exactly.’

  Coinin looked from the tree to her, and understanding dawned. ‘There never was a scroll, was there? The tree is the scroll, isn’t it?’

  Menin beamed. ‘Correct. Welcome to the Tree of Life. To protect it, Soliath Wulf named it the Scroll of Life. Anyone wishing to find it and add a name, or commit the greatest of sins and remove a name, would search for a scroll and not the tree. Pretty clever of him if you ask me.’

  ‘How did it get here?’

  ‘Rindor needed to protect the tree from his brother Mort, so he grew it inside the volcano within a cavern, knowing that his brother could not walk on solid ground. When Soliath Wulf became favoured, he was charged with ensuring that the name of Mort was never again permitted to be added to the tree.’

  Coinin swayed slightly. ‘Why is it called the Tree of Life?’

  ‘Every newborn child has a unique place predestined on the tree. It sprouts a flower bud and grows into fruit that bears the name of the child. As old age hits and death strikes, the fruit falls and is absorbed back into the ground, thus fulfilling the circle of life. If you were to pluck a fruit before its time, that person would die instantly. The same goes for adding a name; it is dangerous to do so and would affect the balance of life unalterably. So do you now see why it is guarded so?’ Menin asked.

  ‘Yes, I do. Tell me, how do you add a name to the tree?’ Coinin asked through the biting pain in his head.

  Menin looked at him gravely. ‘I don’t know if it is appropriate to reveal that information. It is a secret passed down from Archmage to Archmage.’

  Coinin took a deep rattling breath, and his eyes rolled upwards to reveal the whites, his bottom lip quivered, and he went rigid.

  ‘Understandable,’ said Coinin quietly in a voice not quite his own, ‘but if I had to guess, I would say all you would need to do is catch a falling apple, break it open, and remove its seed. The keeper of the seed need only whisper to it the name of the person they wish to add to the Tree of Life, and then bury it.’

  Menin looked at him with utter surprise. ‘How do you know this? What’s wrong with you?’

  A deep rumble radiated from Coinin’s chest almost like a growl. He twitched unnaturally, and his head tilted to the side. ‘Because I created the tree.’ A terrifying voice erupted from him like a scream.

  Menin stepped back, worried, a hand reaching to cover her mouth. ‘Coinin, what are you doing? This is no time for jokes.’ Her voice wavered.

  ‘Foolish woman, I am not Coinin, I am the one you most fear. The terror of the gods that even Rindor fears.’

  Menin trembled visibly. She had unwittingly invited Death into the presence of the sacred tree, and Death had somehow occupied Coinin, possessed him, and was even now using him to his ends. Her breath quickened at the thought. This creature had to be stopped at all costs; he must not be allowed to use Coinin to add his name to the Tree of Life.

  She calmed her breathing, and her focus changed to one of defence as her initial shock waned. ‘Demon, you will not succeed today. I will drive you from the boy and back to your pit in hell.’ She set her jaw in determination, although inwardly she was terrified.

  Coinin twitched abnormally as if the entity that inhabited him was unfamiliar with human movement.

  Death moved slowly towards Menin with a menacing look and red eyes that glowed hatred. ‘You think me so easy to defeat, child? I have destroyed worlds. I can snuff your life out like that.’ He clumsily snapped his fingers.

  Menin slowly backed off, turning to see that her escape route had quickly diminished. The lake loomed behind her and left her nowhere to run. She had no other option but to fight.

  She balled her fists and closed her eyes. She summoned all the strength she could muster, her focus on all that was good in the world. Her hands began to glow a bright white, and she whispered a quick apology to Coinin. ‘Sorry, this is going to hurt.’ She thrust her fists at the advancing enemy. A bolt of white-hot energy hit Coinin, and he was flung a dozen feet into the air like a starfish and crashed into the rock wall at the side of the door.

  He appeared momentarily knocked out, except Menin was no fool. She prepared herself for retaliation. No doubt the creature would revive and hit her with all it had. Her only saving grace was Coinin’s fledgeling magic was not as powerful, and she hoped beyond hope that Death was unable to influence his own brand of magic on Coinin. She was dead for certain if he could.

  With a roar of defiance, Death picked himself up from the floor and faced Menin. She was ready for him and sent another blast of energy hurtling his way. Death, however, was too quick for her and dived at the last moment, and sent a stream of bright green light back at her. It hit her in the left shoulder, and she was momentarily winded.

  She dropped to one knee to catch her breath, and Death stood over her, his eyes flaming.

  He raised a hand to strike her down, but she hit back with yet another blast of light. Coinin’s body was again sent airborne. Menin cringed at the thought of the damage these attacks were doing to Coinin, though she knew that this paled in comparison to what damage Death would inflict on the world if he were able to add his name to the tree.

  She had to find a way to protect the tree, though how? No plan had been devised that would help if Death had managed to make his way to the tree. No Archmage had thought that Death could possess a human. She understood now that Coinin’s ability to possess others worked both ways.

  She bit her lip and tears flowed freely. She knew she had no choice but to take the ultimate action. She looked at the tree in sorrow and hardened her heart for the most severe of actions she would have to take. She would have to use a destruction curse and kill Coinin.

  She prayed for forgiveness, acutely aware that Death was rising once more to strike.

  ❖

  Death found that he was not having as easy a time of it as he had expected. Coinin had been fighting him from the moment he had surfaced. An internal battle raged in his mind, and while Death was distracted, he was weak. If he suppressed Coinin, then he would be unstoppable.

  He and Death were circling each other in a large open arena which was a recreation of one found in the Capital City of Rostha. The circular amphitheatre supported raised seating above regular archways that held thick wooden doors and iron gateways. The ground was a vast sand pit. Bodies of dead warriors or animals littered the ring. Although Coinin had never seen the structure, he assumed its likeness was Death’s idea of a perfect place to battle. They each had swords and shields to hand, and both wore leather armour and helmets.

  A crowd seated around the stadium cheered or berated.

  Coinin was tiny in comparison to the giant proportions of Death who towered over him menacingly. Death’s sword was the size of a tree, and he used it well. Coinin’s shield had endured a battering, hit after hit, and was in imminent danger of buckling. Coinin swung his sword at the leg of Death, and it bit with no more potency than a mosquito.

  Death merely laughed. ‘Fool, you cannot win.’ He raised his sword and brought it down so fast that Coinin had barely enough time to dive out of the way. Death struggled to release his sword from the ground, which gave Coinin precious moments to put some distance between him and the enemy.

  ‘This isn’t going to work,’ he cursed to himself. ‘There has to be a way to defeat him.’

  ❖

  Menin had mentally prepared herself, said her prayer of forgiveness and was now pooling her energy to issue the destruction spell. Tears streamed from her eyes, half-blinding her. Nevertheless, she knew the world was at stake if she did not defeat her foe. Coinin’s death would save a whole planet, and he was one life, compared to hundreds of thousands. She would have to find a new way to find th
e swords. This thought did not make her feel any better.

  The moment had come, so she turned sideways on to Death and raised her hands. Between them a bright blue spark of energy balled itself, ready to be released.

  With a cry, she cast her spell, and it flew true. Death turned and saw the ball of light heading his way and his eyes widened. Coinin’s body arched in upon itself and then sprang open and erupted in a massive shockwave of red terror that rebounded Menin’s spell. It impacted into the cavern wall, causing a rock fall.

  She saw the counter spell coming, to her horror and turned to run, though with nowhere to hide she was caught up in the wave like a child’s spinning top and thrown far into the lake. She splashed into the water hard and floated unconscious on its surface.

  The tree, under the protection of Rindor, remained unharmed. A little boat that had been bobbing at the water’s edge disintegrated under the impact of his spell.

  Death grunted angrily at his mistake and trudged forward. He would have to swim the lake. He waded through the shallow waters until it reached his neck, and began to swim. It was not too long before he was again wading, the water lapping at his ankles.

  A sodden Death approached the golden tree, a look of glee on the possessed Coinin’s face.

  ‘How long have I waited for this moment?’ Death’s voice strained Coinin’s vocal chords.

  He stood under the nearest branch and waited patiently for an apple to fall. He had a look of hunger about him, a desperate desire to complete his task.

  He lunged forward and caught a golden apple-shaped fruit, and roared with delight and pleasure upon his success. Had the apple dropped to the ground, he would not have been able to use it. Its sacred seed would have been tainted, and its usefulness expended.

  He bent and retrieved a small rock from the ground and raised it high before smashing it down upon the apple. It cracked with a clang, and a beam of light flashed through the newly created seam. He lifted the rock once more and struck hard. The apple split, giving up its seed that glowed a brilliant white. He greedily picked up the seed and brought the walnut-sized representation of life close to his lips.

  ❖

  Coinin ducked and dived from the thrashing motion of Death’s sword, yet Death seemed distracted, and he was able to nip behind him and jab at the giant unmolested.

  He frantically wracked his brains for a solution to his dilemma: how to rid his mind of this evil and send Death back to his own realm. A jeer from the crowd distracted him, and he heard the words ‘Give up, you can’t win’ shouted distinctly from somewhere within the mass of onlookers. That innocuous sentence triggered a thought in him, and he knew almost immediately what he must do.

  He dived one last time out of the path of Death’s strike and dropped his shield and sword. He stood still and waited. He did not have to wait too long; Death raised his sword and struck with such force it would have felled a tree in one strike.

  Nothing happened, no agonising pain, no splatter of blood. Death looked ill, which was in itself impossible, or was it the light? Either way, he did not look happy. He was frozen, his sword suspended a finger’s width from Coinin’s skull.

  Death’s eyes moved to his. ‘What did you do, boy?’ he screamed.

  Coinin stepped out from under the blade and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at Death smugly. ‘I gave my life freely. I reasoned the only way to defeat you was to accept death willingly.’

  Death’s face contorted to one of anger and pain. He had been humiliated, defeated by a young boy, and not a very bright one at that in his estimation. How was this possible, was he not a god?

  Coinin circled Death with a self-satisfied smile on his face. Death appeared to be struggling to free himself from the invisible bonds holding him stationary, all to no avail.

  ‘This cannot be, I refuse to believe it,’ Death screamed loudly.

  Coinin heard a cracking sound and looked about him for the source. It was only when he looked closely, that he spotted the horrific skull was cracking, and huge pieces began to fall from it onto the ground. It seemed Death was disintegrating rapidly.

  Coinin knew then he had won the battle, defeated Death, and that everything was going to be fine. With a shriek of pain, Death first appeared to implode and then exploded into countless slivers of light. The last thing Coinin heard was Death’s scream echoing through his mind.

  ❖

  Menin came to, her mouth full of water. She choked and sank into the lake. She kicked for the surface and broke free of its cold grasp and sucked in lungfuls of air.

  Her first thought was to look at the Tree of Life. She saw Coinin slumped at its base and swam as quickly as she could. She needed to know if Death had succeeded in his plan to add his name to the tree, and the only person who would know was the boy who now lay motionless under it.

  She had no idea if Coinin was dead as she swam towards the tree, praying that he was well. A minute later she had reached the shore and dragged herself from the water. Her woollen cloak weighed her down with what felt like the contents of the lake soaked into it. She unclasped it and cast it aside, and found she was able to move easier. She began to shiver with the cold, though her thoughts were not for herself. She ran to the boy and knelt down beside him.

  She checked and found him to be breathing, and was startled to see how bruised and battered he appeared.

  She had done this to him, and it pained her to the point of tears. But at least he was alive. He was barely breathing, yet it was a definite sign of life. She attempted to rouse him, and still, he remained unconscious.

  She left him momentarily and scrabbled around the dirt, looking for signs of recent disturbance. Had Death succeeded in his plan? She looked back at Coinin and spotted a glint of something in his hand, and she stopped breathing, daring to hope that the unforgivable had not occurred. She prised Coinin’s hand open and collapsed with relief at the sight of the sacred seed in his palm, shining as if caught in the sun.

  She gingerly picked it up and looked about her for the shell-like fruit and had to roll Coinin on to his back to find it partially squashed into the dirt. It hadn’t been absorbed, as the key ingredient to life was missing: the seed.

  Hoping she could complete the circle of life for the unfortunate individual who had died and therefore restore the soul, she carefully placed the seed into the shell and sealed it. She put it on the grass and stepped back, and then prayed it would work.

  She sighed, deeply satisfied as the fruit shell, complete with seed, returned to the earth, thus completing the life cycle.

  RECOVERY

  The field of battle was filled with the sounds of thousands of warriors engaged in mortal combat. The crash of swords on armour, the smoke of burning flesh from spells hastily cast, and the smell of death permeated the air. Elf and man alike fell bleeding from their wounds, adding to the sea of bodies writhing in agony, dying and mutilated. The screams of terror set his teeth on edge more so than the roar of bloodthirsty soldiers.

  An army besieged a fortress in the distance. They were dressed in red and white tunics over their steel armour. Counterweight catapults constructed from the local forest were busily demolishing the thick walls with ammunition hewn from the surrounding hills. The castle’s defences were weakening, as were its crudely secured gates, which were taking a pummelling from a battering ram.

  Streams of invaders clambered over the battlements from siege towers, fighting their way along gangplanks. A swift death met many of the raiding party at the hands of archers positioned in the castle’s towers.

  Marrok, blood-soaked and sweating heavily from hand-to-hand combat, gave a signal to archers under his command to fire upon the castle’s own marksmen. If anything it would keep their heads down long enough to clear the battlements.

  A stray rock cast into the air by a catapult collided with his tower, the topmost portion splintered into a thousand pieces, and then Marrok was falling.

  ❖

  Coinin woke from his nigh
tmare with a shout, his breathing heavy. He lay there and listened to muffled voices and the sound of echoing footsteps.

  The air smelt faintly of roses, and a chill breeze ran across his chest that made him shiver slightly. He ached terribly, the pain seemed to wrack every part of his body, and his head throbbed incessantly, yet he was unable to open his eyes, and he again lapsed into blissful unconsciousness.

  ‘How is he, Doctor?’ Archmage Menin asked hopefully, peering at Coinin lying semi-naked on an infirmary bed.

  Doctor Zarth looked grave. ‘This boy has suffered many injuries. He is bleeding internally, and he has several breaks of the bone that I must repair.’

  Menin looked away guiltily. The knowledge that she had inflicted these wounds on Coinin was like a dagger to her own heart. ‘Answer me this. Will he survive?’

  Doctor Zarth cleared his throat. ‘I promise nothing, Laliala.’ He was acutely aware of her distress. ‘But I assure you my students and I will do all that we can for him.’

  ‘He has gone through so much, please be gentle with him, I don’t know how much more he can take,’ Menin pleaded.

  ‘I will make his recovery my personal undertaking.’

  ❖

  Several days later Coinin stirred from his sleep. He had undergone several surgeries at the hands of Doctor Zarth and his students. They had set the many broken bones he had suffered, including a fractured leg, and now he was trussed up and restrained to prevent movement.

  The first thing he did was to try and move until the pain overwhelmed him and he gave up. He was only just able to incline his head enough to see a white ceiling and a curtained cubicle.