Do the Gods Give Us Hope?

by Jeff Henrikson

  “I knew you were being wrongly imprisoned. I didn’t know why, but I knew you were innocent.”

  Austen whispered back, “How do you intend to get us out of here?”

  “With a little faith, my friend. With a little faith. Stand back and let me pray.” Austen stood back as far as the cell would allow while Mestel closed his eyes and centered himself. This was Martel’s work. That much he knew. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind as he said a prayer to the Flying Falcon and slowly reached his hand into his god’s pouch. What had been previously empty now held the key to their salvation. His hand closed around a single metallic item, which he pulled out into the light. A large platinum coin covered his palm. Mestel had almost forgotten how beautiful the symbol of his god truly was. He turned the coin over a few times in his palm.

  Austen looked somewhat unconvinced that a coin was their key to salvation as Mestel walked over beside him and asked, “Do you know the way out of here once we leave this cell?”

  “Certainly; I was a student at this Academy for several years. We all had to perform guard duty down here from time to time. Once we get out of the cell” – Austen rolled his eyes at the unpromising prospects – “we go down the hall to the right. There is a guardroom on the right that will probably have two students standing watch. Once you get past the guardroom, there is a spiral staircase leading up to the surface. We will have to go up three flights of stairs before we can escape the dungeon. Once we are out of the dungeon, we will have to make it out into the streets of Jewlian in order to teleport away.”

  “Very well. My god demands that I free those who are wrongfully imprisoned and destroy those that abuse their power. First, I will free you, and then I will deal with the second. I know Rafa was your friend, but he has turned to evil. He reeks of betrayal. I don’t know where his allegiance lies, but it is not with the Academy. Stand back until the forcefield is down and be prepared to move quickly when it is.”

  _______________________________________

  Austen stood against the back wall. He did not know how a coin of Martel was going to set them free, but he also knew Mestel had a unique relationship with his god. He had known that from the beginning. So even though what Mestel was proposing sounded preposterous, he stood back and let his faith in this elf of destiny propel him onward.

  Austen watched as Mestel held the platinum coin of his god out in front of him like a holy symbol and walked toward the forcefield. He stood directly in front of the forcefield and allowed the coin to come into contact with it. When the coin met the field, the reaction was immediate. The forcefield sprang to life, trying to push the coin away. The field surrounded the coin and crackled with blue energy. Mestel did not fight it; he held the coin in contact with the blue energy and let his god do the work. Austen covered his eyes as the blue energy lunged forward and enveloped Mestel. Mestel gritted his teeth in pain and did not shy away. The spindly elf stood perfectly still as the battle between the arcane magic of the forcefield and the divinity of Martel raged on. The field winked out of existence with a final flash of protest.

  Mestel shoved the platinum coin back into his pouch and urged Austen out of the cell.

  Austen whispered, “Well done.”

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  Mestel and Austen moved out into the dungeon hallway without a weapon of any kind. Mestel moved silently but quickly to the right, passing cell after empty cell. After moving forward thirty paces, Mestel could see that the hallway curved to the left up ahead. He followed the curve of the wall with Austen close behind. A doorway came into view up on the right that Mestel assumed was the guard station Austen had mentioned.

  *****

  Just as the guard station came into view, Mestel’s vision went dark, and there was a white flash. Mestel recognized right away that this was one of his god’s visions.

  He watched from an eagle-eye view as his future self and Austen continued toward the guard station. Inside the guard station were two Academy students sitting at separate desks, engrossed in their studies. One of the students sat at a desk on the far side of the room, facing away from the doorway. The other student sat at the near end of the room, absorbed in whatever book he was reading, with a peripheral view of the doorway. Mestel watched in the third person as his god showed him the way. Then there was another flash of white light.

  *****

  Mestel was back in the present. and he knew what had to happen next.

  ______________________________________

  Austen moved carefully down the hallway behind Mestel and watched as the hallway began to curve to the left. He continued moving silently forward until he nearly ran into the back of Mestel. The elf had suddenly stopped walking and stood in front of him as rigid as a statue. Austen waited patiently, assuming Mestel saw something up ahead that was beyond his view, but became concerned after a few moments, wondering what in the name of Chaos was going on.

  “Mestel … Mestel, are you all right?” When he did not get a response, Austen took a step forward and lightly tapped the elf on the shoulder. Nothing! What was going on? Was there some sort of spell at work he had not detected? He moved to Mestel’s right side, passed a hand in front of his face, and was about to shake him violently when the elf finally woke up.

  Mestel turned his head toward him and whispered, “Follow my lead.”

  Austen watched as Mestel moved forward once again as though nothing had happened. Austen shook his head at the gods’ sense of humor over what his life had become and fell in behind the elf.

  Mestel moved forward with purpose, seeming to know exactly what lay ahead. Austen was amazed at how stealthily Mestel moved, until it was time to act. When it came time to act, he was then amazed at Mestel’s control and power. Mestel moved silently into the guardroom and slinked toward the guard sitting closer to the door. He did not even look at the layout of the room, almost as though he had known exactly what to expect. He focused entirely on his target. The closer guard finally noticed Mestel out of the corner of his eye and looked up in surprise. Mestel blurred into action and struck like a coiled snake. He crossed the remaining few feet and hit the guard hard across the face. The guard was unconscious before his face hit the desk. Mestel pulled the student’s dagger from the belt around his waist in one fluid motion and moved across the room. It happened so fast Austen did not even register the attack. The first guard was down in a blurry instant, and Mestel was crossing the room over to where the second student was seated. The second student had time to get out of his chair and turn around, but not much else. Mestel did not hesitate, made all the more lethal with a dagger in his hand.

  Austen hoped Mestel would not kill the young student, since he was only a child doing his duty, and was obviously not trained in hand-to-hand combat. He fully understood the need for deadly force in this instant, lest they be recaptured and killed themselves, but Austen had spent decades running from place to place because he refused to spill his fellow Sorcerers’ blood, and he would hate to see that work set aside now.

  Mestel struck the young man hard across the face with the butt of the dagger. The student fell to the ground in a heap and did not move to rise. Austen moved up beside Mestel with wonder in his eyes.

  “I am glad you were not forced to kill them. They are both doing their duty and innocent in this affair.”

  Mestel nodded his head and spoke quickly. “That’s why I didn’t kill them, but they are a part of the system that held you in wrongful imprisonment. We may not be so lucky next time. If it’s a choice between us or them, then they will die.” Mestel bent over the second student, pulled out his dagger, and handed it to Austen. “Let’s keep moving. Stay close.”

  Mestel walked quietly out of the guard station and started to ascend the spiral staircase with Austen only a few steps behind. They made it around one complete spiral and came to a second level of the prison. Austen heard two young voices off to his right discussing classes they were taking at the Academy. H
e knew the voices were coming from a second alcove. He had hoped this one would be empty tonight and cursed under his breath at the difficult decision they faced. The two students were not aware of their presence and could be easily bypassed, but that decision would leave a potential enemy in their rear. Mestel looked to the right and listened to the voices for a moment before continuing up the spiral staircase. Austen did not dare say anything for fear of being discovered, but he was proud of Mestel for at least trying to honor his word by not randomly killing anything that got in their way.

  Austen stared intently at the second guard station as he slinked up the staircase, then ran into the back of Mestel for a second time. He silently cursed the elf and looked up to find him frozen in a trance-like state once again. Austen waited patiently, hoping Mestel would snap out of it before anyone came down the spiral staircase. It was infuriating to stand still and do nothing when their lives were in danger.

  As Austen waited patiently, he heard the voices of two older men coming down the spiral staircase. The voices were indistinct at first, but coming ever closer. “… found him in the town of Wessex.”

  “It is amazing how close he was to us, yet we had no idea. Are you sure we should carry out our orders?”

  The two men were very close. “Of course, he killed Delinor. Do not ever forget that. He earned his fate long ago.”

  “Have you seen the evidence? Or should I say, have you seen the lack of evidence? No one really knows what happened twenty years ago.”

  Just on the other side of the spiral. “Look, Rafa wants it done and that is good enough for me.”

  Suddenly, Mestel snapped out of his trance. He lunged forward, running up the stairs two at a time. Austen tried to keep up, but Mestel quickly passed out of view. One of the men screamed out. Arcane words were spoken and the flash of powerful magic reverberated off the walls. Austen bounded up the stairs in time to see one of the wizards sent to kill them lying on the steps with his throat cut open. He looked up from the body as Mestel plunge his dagger into the heart of the second. As his dagger found its mark, lightning emerged from the wizard’s fingertips with a loud popping sound that echoed up and down the staircase. Mestel was so close to his victim that most of the lightning went past him and ricocheted off the stone wall. A few moments later, the wizard fell dead to the ground with Mestel’s dagger in his chest.

  Mestel pulled out the dagger and turned to face Austen. “Don’t think about what just happened. We have to keep moving. The battle with these two wizards probably woke up half the Academy. We need to keep moving or else more people are going to die.”

  Austen nodded and followed Mestel farther up the stairs, not allowing the brutality of what he just observed to slow him down. Mestel abruptly slowed down and froze in place once again. Austen half expected it this time and managed to stop himself before he ran into the elf’s back for the third time. He waited patiently for Mestel to come out of his trance and even had time to ponder the strangeness of his situation. Here he was, running wildly for his life through tunnels that he knew well as a young man, staring death in the face with every turn, yet he had no doubt whatsoever as to the outcome. He knew they would escape safely from the Academy. Mestel’s god was leading them on with his divine presence, and all Austen had to do was follow along.

  Mestel snapped out of his daze and proceeded to race up the stairs. As they reached the top of the spiral staircase, Austen saw the open doorway leading to the courtyard and relished the freedom that lay beyond. What his old eyes did not see was the guard alcove off to the right where a powerful archwizard lay in wait, protected in the shroud of an invisibility spell. Once again Mestel did not hesitate, seeming to have clairvoyant knowledge of what lay ahead. He reached the top of the stairs and somersaulted forward into the alcove. As the elf rolled gracefully forward through the doorway and came back to his feet, two extraordinary things happened. As Mestel’s momentum brought him up from his somersault, he pulled out his dagger and slashed at the hidden archwizard off to his left, even though there was no way he could have known the Sorcerer was there. Second, the archwizard launched three energy arrows that would have hit Mestel squarely in the chest if he had simply run into the room.

  Mestel cut viciously through the wizard’s calf and completed the roll by coming back to his feet. Austen watched from the spiral stairway as the wizard fell to the ground, yelling out in pain. Mestel turned around and moved forward to stab the incapacitated wizard and finish him off. The archwizard Sorcerer was not a young naïve student like the two in the dungeon, nor was he caught unawares like the two wizards on the staircase. The archwizard was a veteran, and he responded as such. Thinking quickly, he let two arcane words fly from his lips, freezing Mestel in mid lunge, leaving him helplessly caught in the archwizard’s magical grip. The archwizard did not waste time gloating over his victory. Rather, he let out a painful yelp as he clamored quickly to his knees and drew a dagger from the belt around his waist. He rose painfully to his feet and hobbled over to Mestel, completely unaware that Austen was watching from the stairwell.

  Austen had only a moment to decide. Did he stab his fellow Sorcerer in the back or did he continue up the stairs and leave Mestel to his fate? He could also distract the Sorcerer until Mestel broke free of the spell, but that plan was rife with uncertainty.

  Austen gripped his dagger more tightly and rushed into the alcove. The archwizard heard him coming and turned around in surprise, but by then it was too late. Austen slashed his knife across the wizard’s chest. Crimson blood poured out of the vicious cut, coating the white and purple robes. The Sorcerer slashed back in desperation and struck Austen with a deep cut across the arm. Austen had never harmed anyone in hand-to-hand combat before, and the brutality of it all took him by surprise. He froze in place for an instant as his consciousness caught up to what his senses were telling him. Unfortunately, the enemy archwizard experienced no such hesitation and took full advantage of Austen’s weakness. He raised his arm and yelled out one arcane word in self-defense. Austen was caught in the stomach by an energy bolt that threw him out into the hall. He hit the wall of the stairwell hard and collapsed in a foggy haze.

  _______________________________________

  Mestel watched Austen fight the archwizard with his eyes wide open, unable to move or assist in any way. He watched in agony as Austen was blown out of the room and collapsed. Mestel was certain that Austen was the more powerful wizard, but his spells no longer worked on Academy grounds because of the geas that had been forced upon him. He was defending himself with a dagger – a weapon with which he had little practice.

  Mestel’s sworn charge was about to die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Panic set in as the old fear returned. Fear that he would fail. Fear that he was not worthy to serve as Martel’s voice on Tellus. What could he do? He tried to think coherently, but his thoughts were scattered by the fear. The archwizard’s spell would not release him until long after Austen was dead, and probably him as well. Mestel had a dagger in his hand, and he had seen in Martel’s vision that his bow and other equipment had been stored in this alcove, just off to the right, where the archwizard had originally stood.

  None of that mattered, for try as he might, Mestel could not overcome the magic holding him in place. Again, the archwizard did not gloat over his victory, nor did he hesitate for mercy’s sake. As soon as Austen slumped unconscious to the floor, the archwizard lowered his hand and advanced out into the hallway, eager to finish off one of his adversaries and move onto the second.

  The panic was deafening. Mestel lunged forward with all his might, but not a single muscle answered his command. He had failed to live up to his god’s expectations. Austen had been wrongly accused and wrongly imprisoned, and now he was going to die. Mestel closed his eyes so as not to see the final blow – then in the peace of that moment he remembered some of the words his god had spoken to him. If you return to Tellus and continue my work, you will not be alone. My power and wisdom wi
ll always be with you. You are no longer a warrior who fights blindly against what you do not know, but rather, you are a chosen. In that moment of clarity, Mestel’s spirit was filled with Martel’s divinity. Suddenly, breaking through the magic holding him in place seemed so simple.

  With a thought it was done; he was free. Mestel took a step forward and threw the dagger end over end, burying it in the archwizard’s shoulder blade. More of Martel’s words echoed in Mestel’s mind. Your wisdom and your bow will be your weapons now. The archwizard turned around with his arm in the air and arcane words on his lips. Mestel knew the words and knew the spell. He lunged to the right and fell to the ground as a lightning bolt crackled through the space he had just occupied. Mestel’s hand closed around the grip of his bow, while his other hand reached into his quiver and pulled out a single arrow.

  Mestel heard the archwizard speak two more arcane words and he recognized the incantation as Vulture’s Needle. Mestel nocked his arrow and looked up at the door in time to see a vulture come flying through the entryway with its wings spread wide. The monster had a beak as sharp as any needle, with razorblades instead of feathers. It turned gracefully toward Mestel with searing red eyes full of hatred and death.

  Mestel let the bird come, waiting until the timing was right. He lunged to the left and dove across the entryway to the alcove. The vulture flew by at great speed, unable to turn as quickly as Mestel moved. While Mestel was in midair he pulled his single arrow back to his ear and let it fly. The arrow flew smoothly through the air and caught the archwizard in the throat. The wizard reached for his neck, shocked by the quickness of Mestel’s attack. He gargled his last breath and fell dead to the ground.

  The vulture gripped the far wall with his razor talons and launched in the opposite direction. Mestel watched it come, knowing he lay prone on the ground with no chance of escape. Just before the vulture got to him it vanished into nothingness as the magic that bound it to this world dissipated with the archwizard’s death.