World in Chains- The Complete Series

by Ryan W. Mueller

  Maybe Markus couldn't kill Krinir, but somebody would die today. There was a pleading look in Warrick's eyes. He worked his mouth but could not form words.

  Then an unseen force sent Markus flying backward. He put out his arms to brace for the landing. When he hit, sharp pain flared in both his wrists, and he slammed his knees against the cold stone floor. Bruised and dazed, he tried to get back to his feet, but his body refused.

  Warrick had regained his footing, though, and now he stood over Markus.

  "I deserved that," Warrick said. "I deserve it many times over."

  Markus gathered his energy, preparing to launch another spell at Warrick. The time for talking was over. It was time to kill, time to rid the world of the monster who had ruined so many lives. Markus was about to unleash the spell when a misty yellow cloud formed around him.

  His spell died.

  "We need to talk," Warrick said.

  "You weren't too keen on talking a couple minutes ago."

  "That's because I wasn't myself."

  "And now you are? I find that hard to believe."

  "It is true, Markus. For the first time since I first met Krinir, I am completely free from his influence. I am not fighting against him. I am completely myself." His voice became thick with tears. "I never thought I'd feel this way again. Free."

  Lying on the stone floor, Markus couldn't decide if he believed Warrick. But there was something in Warrick's voice Markus had never heard before. It was hard to describe.

  "How?" Markus asked, not sure if he believed Warrick.

  Warrick leaned against the nearby stone wall, looking exhausted. "It was Tylen."

  Markus still couldn't push himself to his feet. Nor could he use any magic amidst the yellow haze Warrick had created. "I don't understand. What does Tylen have to do with it?"

  "Tylen told you of his persuasive abilities, didn't he?"

  Markus nodded, feeling too weak to move.

  "It was the magic that came most naturally to him, and he used it throughout his life, making the world an easier place for him. In the end, his persuasion saved me. When he put himself between you and the spell intended for you, it broke Krinir's control. In my more lucid moments, I knew for a long time that this moment would come. I darkened the strands from Krinir's view, but I still did not know if it would work."

  Markus struggled to take in this explanation. It made some sense, but he wasn't sure.

  "I couldn't tell Tylen what he had to do in the end. I had to trust that he'd make his way there on his own. It was perhaps the biggest gamble I've ever taken. But it was necessary. Only through the combination of Tylen's persuasive magic, and the inherent contradiction in an act like this, could I truly break free from Krinir's control."

  Markus looked up through a haze of pain. "Contradiction?"

  "Tylen was always a man looking out for himself—at least before the destruction of Crayden, before I began molding him into a better man. To sacrifice himself for you was about the greatest contradiction you could imagine, and contradictions have power."

  Despite Markus's initial reservations, he believed Warrick. Now Markus shuddered at the thought that he might have killed Warrick in his anger. After all, in the battle against Krinir, Warrick was the greatest hope they had. If he was on their side, then they had a chance.

  A small chance. But anything was better than nothing.

  Warrick kneeled at Markus's side. "Let me heal you."

  He placed one hand on each of Markus's wrists. The energy of Warrick's healing spell traveled first to each of Markus's wrists, then spread through the rest of the body, easing his many aches and pains. Before he knew it, he could push himself to his feet.

  "Thank you," Markus said. He looked at the still forms of Lara and Tylen. "Can we heal them?"

  "Tylen is dead. There's no bringing him back. Lara still clings to life."

  Markus rushed to her side and placed his hands against her chest, pouring his healing magic into her. He still didn't understand how he did it, but he could feel the energy leaving him and strengthening her. He didn't relent until she coughed a couple of times.

  Then he slumped against the nearby wall.

  Lara looked up at him. "Am I still alive?"

  "Yes, we are," Markus said.

  "And Tylen?"

  Markus shook his head.

  "And Warrick?"

  "Tylen sacrificed himself for me," Markus said, "and it somehow broke the spell Krinir had over Warrick. Warrick is completely free now."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  "Well, he hasn't killed us," Markus said.

  She gave him a sharp look.

  "Yes, I trust that he's telling the truth. I don't know how to explain it, but I can feel it: the change in him. He's under his own control now. Completely."

  "I trust your judgment," Lara said.

  Warrick strode over to them. "Now that we've settled that, we need to return to Nadia, and then we need to get you through this place so you can gain Darkness magic. Don't worry. I can teleport you directly where you need to go. No challenges involved."

  "I've always wondered," Markus said. "How do you take other people with you?"

  Warrick smiled faintly. "I am the Creator. I created a spell that would let me do it. Now, that spell only works for one other person. I have not yet figured out how to make it work for more people at a time. Let me prepare the spell."

  It took Warrick about a minute to be ready, and then he grabbed Markus's hand. They teleported together, as they had on that day in Warrick's palace that felt so long ago. When the swirling sensation stopped, they appeared before Nadia. Her eyes widened at the sight of Warrick, but Markus held up a hand to calm her.

  "Don't worry," he said. "It's all right."

  While Warrick prepared his next teleportation spell, he and Markus both explained what had happened, asking Nadia to remain silent until they finished. To her credit, she did wait to voice her opinions.

  Once they finished, she said, "It sounds insane, but I trust your judgment, Markus." She stared at Warrick, as if examining him. "Is Tylen truly dead?"

  Markus and Warrick both nodded.

  "I can't decide how I feel about that," she said. "I never liked Tylen, but I think he was trying to be a better man." Tears crept into her voice. "In the end, I think he succeeded."

  "He did," Markus said. "He gave his life for me."

  Nadia wiped away a tear. "Then I will always cherish Tylen's memory. We may not have started on the best of terms." She paused a moment, too choked up to speak. "But he redeemed himself in the end, and that's all any of us can hope for."

  Warrick's gaze was distant. "Some of us are beyond redemption."

  An awkward silence followed that statement. At last, Markus said, "We should get Lara, get our magic, and get out of here."

  Warrick nodded, then vanished. A few minutes later, he returned with Lara. Then he prepared the teleportation spell that would take them to the chamber containing the crystal that would grant them Darkness magic. It took three trips, but soon the three of them stood atop the platform in the center of the chamber, waiting to put their hands on the crystal.

  "Let's do this," Markus said. He, Nadia, and Lara touched the crystal. It felt as if some unseen force pulled Markus to the crystal and held him there. Though his eyes were closed, he could still see the types of magic he had gained.

  A spell that created perfect darkness. He couldn't help but think of Berig, who would have appreciated such a spell as a thief.

  A beam of darkness used to inflict pain. He remembered that one quite well from when Warrick had used it on him back in Riverside.

  A wave of darkness that could kill many opponents. That seemed like a dangerous spell that should only be used in the worst of emergencies.

  Teleportation. At last, they would gain this ability, and it would make their lives a lot easier. He wished he'd had teleportation back before this all started.

  The crystal released him, and
though nothing had explained how to use each spell, he understood instinctively that he could, and he knew he would use each spell without any trouble when the time came. Magic was strange, but it had grown less confusing with time.

  "Congratulations," Warrick said. "You are one step closer to immortality."

  Nadia and Lara looked dazed. Then Markus realized that they'd seen more spells in the same span of time. They'd learned every type of magic they had bypassed on their way to the Darkness Temple. He remembered how that had felt when Lionar had granted each type of magic to him while bestowing the status of Restorer upon him.

  "What do we do now?" Nadia asked, glancing around the dim chamber.

  "For now, I think you need an explanation," Warrick said. "Or rather, I need to show you the truth. You see, when Tylen's sacrifice broke through Krinir's control, it didn't just break the current link. It undid every bit of manipulation Krinir has ever used against me."

  "What exactly do you mean?" Markus asked.

  "There are memories Krinir removed from my mind, but now I have regained those memories, and I need to show them to you so that you understand." He beckoned for them to step closer. "This won't hurt. I promise."

  Nadia glared at him. "You expect us to trust you."

  "I've had plenty of opportunities to kill you," Warrick said.

  Lara put a hand on Nadia's shoulder. "I trust him."

  Nadia pulled away from her touch. "You don't know him the way I do."

  "Lara's right," Markus said. He hated disagreeing with Nadia, but she was wrong this time. Warrick was telling them the truth, and they needed to see these memories for themselves.

  Nadia bit her lower lip, as if longing to argue again, but then she shook her head. "All right, let's see what you have to show us."

  "The three of you need to hold hands," Warrick said. "That will allow the spell to work on all three of you at once. I'll take Markus's hand." He chuckled. "It's only appropriate. After all, Markus, I am your grandfather."

  "Yeah, I know," Markus said. "Lionar told me."

  "Not the reaction I expected, but at least you don't seem to hate the idea."

  Markus shrugged. "Haven't really spent much time thinking about it."

  They sat down upon the cold stone floor, and Warrick took a position on Markus's left. Warrick grabbed Markus's hand. "You all need to close your eyes."

  They held each other's hands, and the world faded around them.

  Chapter 64: Warrick's Memories

  Darien was eleven years old. He sat in a clearing in the forest, sketching a bird in a nearby tree. His parents had always encouraged him to try new things, like art, but he wasn't sure why. He had no obvious talent for sketching, and it only frustrated him.

  Besides, he would much rather investigate the nearby Darkness Temple. His parents said it was far too dangerous, though. As if parents knew everything.

  They didn't want him to enter the strange area of the forest surrounding the temple—that part of the forest where the shades of the dead lingered. In truth, he couldn't blame them. He'd been there before. He'd even talked to his grandfather. But it had been disconcerting.

  Where were his parents anyway? It had been at least an hour since he'd seen them, and they'd promised they'd leave and buy some food back in town. Suddenly anxious, he put his sketching materials on the forest floor and started in the direction where he'd last seen his parents. As he grew closer to the strange part of the forest, his skin prickled.

  He felt as if something were here that shouldn't be, but he pushed those concerns aside. His parents could handle anything the forest threw at them. They were sorcerers, immortal and nearly invincible, and they'd told Darien he could be the same when he grew up.

  Very few took their path these days. After the Great War, most had been discouraged from pursuing immortality. Some were worried that the Great War might happen again if too many sorcerers attained immortality and the powers that came with it.

  Darien didn't think that was true, but he was just a child. Maybe he didn't know enough about the world to make a real judgment.

  The path narrowed, choked with vines and other undergrowth. He walked and walked but found no sign of his parents. How far had they gone?

  He stepped into a clearing and finally saw them. But something was wrong. Their eyes were wide as they scrambled backward away from something. That didn't make any sense. They were powerful sorcerers. What could possibly be a threat to them?

  He started toward them, but then the cold struck him, chilling him to the bone. His legs collapsed, and when he tried to push himself to his feet, he lacked the strength.

  Their assailant appeared, looking unremarkable at first. It was a wispy silver orb that hovered in the air, moving toward them. After a few moments, Darien realized what it was, and why his parents were so terrified. This was the Silver Wisp.

  Its touch could send a person to the Shadowed Land.

  "Run!" he shouted.

  But his parents couldn't run. More of the Silver Wisps formed around them, dozens of them, closing in from every direction. Darien tried to shout another warning, but his voice didn't work. He could only watch in horror as the Silver Wisps touched his parents.

  It only took a moment, and then they were gone.

  Taken to the Shadowed Land.

  They would never return.

  Darien had no idea how long he lay there in the tangled undergrowth, waiting for the Silver Wisps to send him to the Shadowed Land as well. But as soon as they'd touched his parents, they'd all disappeared.

  Almost as if they'd targeted his parents.

  Leaning his back against a tree, Darien cried. He didn't want to join his parents in the Shadowed Land, but he didn't want to live without them either. Frozen by grief, he stayed beside that clearing until night fell. Even then, he did not move.

  And that was when he felt the horrible chill. It swept over him, feeling as if it might turn his blood to ice. Panicked, he scanned his surroundings, but he saw nothing.

  That did little to ease his fears.

  Shivering, he glanced around in terror. Every sound seemed amplified in the cold and silent forest. His breath came out in huge clouds, as if it were the middle of winter. But it was a late spring night, warm and humid. What in the world was going on?

  Then he heard the voice, more a low hiss than anything else.

  "Your parents are gone," it said.

  Darien could not bring himself to speak. Icy terror squeezed his throat.

  "I am the Spirit of Malavia," it said. "But that's not my true identity. The Spirit of Malavia is merely a piece of my consciousness, one of the few ways I can still interact with the world." It paused a moment, as if for dramatic effect. "I am Krinir."

  Darien's terror of moments ago was nothing compared to what he felt now.

  "I’m not going to harm you," it said. "You are useful to me."

  "Send my parents back," Darien said, tears streaming down his face.

  "You are not in a position to make demands of me, but perhaps I will consider it. However, you should know that such an act comes with consequences."

  "I don't care!" Darien said. "Send them back!"

  "If you want them back, you will serve me."

  Darien knew he should refuse the order, but his emotions won out over his logic. He took a couple deep breaths, willing his tears to stop. "What do I have to do?"

  "Come closer to my voice. I cannot make the move to touch you. You have to do it."

  Darien scooted closer to the spirit, ignoring the pervasive chill.

  "Good," it said. "Now reach out and touch me."

  Darien hesitated a moment, worried he was doing the wrong thing. But he didn't care. He wanted his parents back. Heart pounding, he reached out, and knew immediately that he had touched the spirit. Cold knifed through his entire body, sharp and painful. He was sure it was going to kill him, but then it relented.

  He lay on the forest floor, trembling, covered in sweat despite t
he cold. When he tried to push himself to a sitting position, his arms failed him.

  "You are now bound to me," the spirit said.

  Darien knew he'd just sold his soul, but he couldn't take it back now.

  * * * * *

  Darien's friends at the Academy of Sandersburg had come to call him by his last name, Warrick, mostly so that they wouldn't confuse him with Deron, another friend. Warrick might have complained, but he didn't mind the change. It separated him from the child he'd been.

  It sounded more imposing.

  After all, he already had his sights set high. He, Marlon, Cyrus, and Deron would all graduate from the academy in a few short days. They'd learned magical theory and world history at the academy, but these lessons were nothing like true magic. A few of the professors possessed it, and it always left Warrick in awe. Soon he and his friends would start the Pilgrimage.

  Of course, Warrick had his own plans. For him, it wasn't just about the beauty of magic or the power that came with it. No, he also had to go to the Shadowed Land and find his parents. He had no idea what he'd find there, but he vowed to be ready for it.

  On the night before his graduation, he received another visit from the Spirit of Malavia. He hadn't encountered it since that night in the forest, and a part of him had believed he'd experienced a nightmare.

  But now it hovered close to him, right here in his dormitory.

  "It is time to begin your rise to power," it said.

  "I don't want power. I just want to bring my parents back."

  "Why not both?"

  "I have no interest in ruling others."

  "Your interests do not matter," it said. "You will be the most powerful ruler this world has ever known—well, apart from me, of course. You will have the ability to change the world. I've seen you and your friends talking. You hate the inequality in the world. You hate the way the sorcerers of Luminia care little for anyone else. With power, you can change that."

  Warrick leaned his back against the wall behind his bed, trying to sort through his thoughts. A part of what the spirit said made sense. He and his friends had lamented the state of the world: inequality, war, monsters. The world was in a terrible state.