Soon the Collective controlled the area before the front gate and Alia called for an evacuation of the citizens that wished to join them. They would be led out of the domain a safe distance that would be protected by more Collective magicians as the fighting in Ilipse raged on. When they had about thirty domain magicians in tow Alia ordered half of her force to the staging area while she took Riona, Tomlin, and a few others deeper into the city.
The Kenzai were scattered and all but beaten when Alia decided to lead her remaining team forward. Her group had done exceptionally well against the Kenzai that they faced, but there was no guarantee that the other, smaller teams had fared so well and she was desperate to ensure that as many of the Collective made it out alive as possible.
A warrior dressed in plate armor and carrying a pair of heavy looking maces suddenly appeared before Alia and her team as they rounded a corner into a park filled with stone benches laid out in a large circle. More than a dozen Kenzai ready for battle flanked him. At first, Alia thought the man was Kellen and hoped that fortune would have it that Byrn was somehow in this domain, but fate was not so kind and although this man was likely a master of the Kenzai Order, he was not Kellen. Without saying a word, the warrior held his maces before him in an “X” that spewed forth a brilliant blue fire.
Alia erected a shield and Riona’s elemental stood before its master defensively as the wave of blue fire washed over them, but the others were not so lucky and screamed in agony at the flames that washed over them. Then as quickly as it came, the flames were gone and the Collective magicians that had been burning appeared unharmed.
Alia asked Tomlin, “How do you feel?”
Tomlin looked at his hand as if he was seeing it for the first time. “I feel strange. Not bad or injured, but just… out of sorts.”
The earth elemental began to crumble before their eyes. The creature rested its weight on its hands as clumps of dirt and rocks fell from its body making a cloud of dust all around it. Its head fell off like the hard, lifeless stone that it was and the rest of its body quickly did the same so that only a mound of dirt that was as high up as Riona’s knees lay before her.
One of Byrn’s old pupils pointed his staff at the group of Kenzai and was marveled as absolutely nothing happened. He tried again, using greater concentration and reciting an incantation meant to help his focus, but the results were equally unremarkable. “Our magic is gone,” the young man sounded astonished.
Riona held her staff defensively. “Can you still fight?” she asked Alia.
The enchantress felt the flow of magic still around her. It was not as strong as it had been moments ago, but it was still there. She nodded to Riona. She could still fight, but doubt crept at the edges of her mind. Only the two masters had retained any magic and they stood against three squads of Kenzai warriors led by a master.
“Tomlin, get the others out of here. Take them to the safe zone and we will meet you there soon.”
The bard moved to obey Alia instinctively, and then stopped. To one of the others, he said, “Go on without me. I’m not leaving.”
“Tomlin, that was an order!” Alia shoved him hard towards the fleeing magicians.
Riona summoned a trio of spooks and sent them after the Kenzai. “We all need to flee while we can.”
Half of the guardsmen fought against the spooks as best they could and their leader, who looked to be moving a bit slowly after releasing his blue fire, was forced to engage the apparitions to protect his men. The other half came after the magicians and a plan began to form in Alia’s mind. She held her hands up in surrender and tossed her staff so that it landed at her feet.
“Alia?” Tomlin’s voice cracked.
“Follow my lead,” she whispered and Tomlin nodded curtly before dropping his staff as well.
Riona backed away behind them. “Are you mad? What kind of mercy do you expect? It will be Baj or death for us!”
“Do not run, Riona, I have need of you still.” There must have been some layer of confidence in Alia’s voice that was enough to reassure the necromancer, because she did not run, but she would not abandon her staff as the enchanters had done.
Two of the guardsmen grabbed Alia and each held one of her arms. Two more did the same with Tomlin and they were ushered forward to meet the armored warrior. As they passed over her staff, Alia stepped on it and chose that moment to strike.
“Rage,” she whispered and the word seeped into the men. She altered their perception so that they could only see the other Kenzai warriors. They released Alia and drew their swords in unison. An enchanter’s talents were for the most part ineffective against a wary Kenzai of moderate skill and to break through their defenses often required a physical connection where the suggestion could be amplified.
Tomlin twisted his body and extended his right leg before the guards holding him could react to Alia’s trickery. The one on his right tripped over Tomlin’s foot while the bard’s own momentum took him, and the other Kenzai to the ground. Tomlin rolled so that he was in a crouch over the second guard and buried his dagger in the man’s gut before he was even aware that the magician had drawn the knife.
One of Alia’s bewitched guards stabbed his weapon through the first guard’s prone back before charging the remaining Kenzai. Although the enchanted men were vastly outnumbered they attacked with such ferocity that the other guardsmen were hard pressed to defend themselves without harming their friends.
Bolstered by their two new allies, Alia and Riona began to cast a new round of spells at the remaining warriors. Riona summoned another spook and sent it after the men while Alia summoned a pair of war wraiths. Tomlin began loading the dwarf powder into his hand-cannon.
The Kenzai master ignored the summoned spirits instead choosing to go after Alia and Riona. He swung his left mace at Riona who erected a barrier that was nearly shattered by the force of the master’s blow. Her magic was nearly depleted.
With his right mace, he tried to take off Alia’s head, but she ducked and seeing an opportunity lunged for the man with her open hand at his neck. She squeezed his neck and shouted the word, “Death!”
The last of her magic coursed out of her body and into the master’s as she willed with all of her strength to enthrall his heart so that it might stop beating and his lungs so that they would stop breathing. The illusion of death was an incredibly powerful spell that could only be cast by a master enchanter. It was so strong that it could convince someone that he was dead with such complete certainty that his body would shut down its involuntary functions. It was a gamble, using the last of her power to cast such a powerful spell, but against the master Kenzai it seemed like the only thing that might work.
Alia fell to her knees as she lost her grip on the master and he fell down besides her grasping at his throat as his body convulsed. Riona’s hands held her, keeping Alia erect. She risked a look at the other Kenzai and the spirits and saw that most of the men were dead. Only two still lived and they were being forced away by the summoned spirits.
A burst of blue flame erupted from the master’s contorting body and his tremors abated.
“No!” Riona screamed and tried to drive the blade of her staff into the warrior’s chest, but it glanced off of his plated armor. He grabbed Riona’s ankle and siphoned the last of her magic away.
Alia tried to stand. She wanted to protect Riona, but she could not convince her muscles to move fast enough. The master yanked Riona’s leg with such strength that the portly woman was deposited on her rear even as the Kenzai got to his feet and lifted one of his maces to smash her skull.
Boom.
Tomlin’s hand-cannon fired from less than two feet away into the side of the Kenzai master’s head. Though he wore a helmet it did little to prevent the metal slug from piercing through and lodging in the man’s brain. This time his body tumbled and did not rise again.
“We still need to get back to the rendezvous site,” Tomlin told them while he helped Riona to her feet. Then he l
ifted Alia and put an arm around her waist. “You two are in no condition to fight.”
Alia was forced to agree.
Chapter 23
Xander Necros stood stark still amidst the bustling plaza leading into Colum as he took in his surroundings. No matter which direction he looked he saw people going about their business, blissfully unaware of the danger that the elderly traveler who walked with a stave presented. Some part of him had forgotten what it was like to live such a simple life, a life filled with the simple joys of peace and family. He had that years ago with Avelice and their children: Jynn, Risa, and Alia. They were happy for a time, just like these people.
A man and his son, probably ten years old from the looks of him, entered some inn with a picture of a crow sleeping in its nest hanging from its sign. They were probably merchants or travelers without a serious care. No one hunted them or wanted to kill them simply for existing. This was the life that he was fighting for, just not for these people. He wanted this life free from worry for his daughter, the last of his line, and if Xander was being completely honest, he wanted this for himself too.
His staff supported his weight as he focused on drawing in magical energy. None living could surpass him magically, few could even come close, but his physical body had grown so weak over time that he had come to rely on magic as a crutch to keep his body healthy. If not for his timely rescue from Baj, his body surely would have faltered within a few years. When he thought about the power he used to wield when he was Byrn’s age, he resented the old body he now found himself in and its limitations.
“Bah, your mind is wandering like an old fool,” Xander told himself and readied his thoughts for that which must be done.
A quartet of snaking dark tendrils shot from Xander’s hunched over back and impaled just as many people causing their bodies to go rigid as the necromancer absorbed the magic directly from their bodies in a manner that was far more efficient than the bloodletting that most magicians had come to use. Using the blood source was the act of a foolish child who knew no better. To take the magic that was the very wellspring of life was the far superior technique. Fueled by the life forces of those he attacked, more tendrils whipped out of Xander’s body and attached to others in the square until he held everyone in the plaza in his grip.
The feeling of power was euphoric. More than a century passed since Xander had last used the dark tendrils like this. He forgot how much he enjoyed the sheer rush of power- of life that entered his body. It begged to be used, and use it he would.
The people in the plaza lay dead around him, but there was much more to do. He could feel the flow of magic from those hidden indoors and the beasts: horses, chickens, and the like, around them. All felt the icy touch of his dark magic as Xander took more life force into his body.
Somewhere not far off women were screaming as the tendrils reached out for them and a horn began to blow in alarm. It did not matter. There was no threat in Colum or in all of Aurelia that could stand against the grandmaster at that moment.
Power coursed through the old man’s veins as he began to levitate. At first Xander was only a few inches off the ground, but within moments he was hovering above the buildings and made his way to the center of the city absorbing the energy of those below who crossed his path.
Below him, people ran in terror with the intensity of mice scurrying from a starving feline. “There is no need to run,” Xander’s voice magically carried over Colum, “None of you will escape. Make your piece with the gods while you still have the chance.”
An explosion of hundreds, then thousands of tentacles sprang from Xander’s body so that his magic blocked out the sun and sky from the sight of those below him covering the city in darkness. His tentacles spread to every inch of the city slithering in and out of buildings as easily as the serpents that they mimicked and none whom the tentacles touched survived for long. Xander stopped himself short of all out decimation of the population, though his lust for more of the wondrous energy beckoned him to taste of every last soul. He let a few live here and there to bear witness to what he had done. Let them see what he could do and let them spread fear of him throughout the kingdom. After all, what was the point of putting on a show without an audience to witness it?
It took less than a half hour for Xander to turn Colum into a ghost town. Ten thousand lives were stolen and not a single stone was out of place. He looked over his handy work and felt a grim satisfaction at the results, but the utter decimation of Colum was not his true goal. All of the lives taken here were in service of a greater ambition that would allow him revenge against those who held him in captivity for so long and grant Xander his army at the same time.
His body radiated with what felt like limitless power as Xander propelled his body through the air toward Baj. As he neared the magician prison, he felt a weak pulling at him from under the earth. He had guessed that this would be here, but he had no way of knowing for sure until now. Just under the surface lurked something powerful… and dead. Xander pushed some of his force into that mass of lifelessness and was rewarded with the ground churning far below him. The earth heaved as it shifted away to reveal the rising of the undead. Torn and rotted flesh hung from the bodies of many of the walkers, but many more were little better than bone white skeletons. There were hundreds of them; magicians who died in Baj over the years and were buried in mass graves. Again Xander pushed magic into the living dead and this time he felt the cost fore what he was doing was an unthinkable feat even to the most skilled masters of necromancy. He infused them with energy that would act as a beacon for the souls that once inhabited these shabby remains and as the souls of innumerable dead magicians returned to their bodies they were no longer simple shambling corpses, but were undead magicians with all of the powers and knowledge that they had in life if only for a little while.
Xander lowered himself into the midst of the stinking dead. “Attack!” he roared in the uncommon silence, “Destroy Baj! Bring it crumbling down as you always wanted to do in life!”
The zombie horde was quick to obey and the scene erupted into chaos as Baj was battered with earth, wind, fire, water, ice, and lightning from dozens of directions all at once. Many of the undead worked together to manipulate the ground outside of the gate building a bridge across the large moat. Hundreds of spirits and creatures were summoned from lowly wraiths to nigh indestructible elementals intent on breaking through the prison’s gates. The Kenzai jailers tried to fight back shooting arrows from towers, walls, and kill holes, but their weapons were useless against the walking dead.
Not to be outdone by his lackeys, Xander’s tentacles extended hundreds of yards until they reached Baj and he began to suck energy from many of their archers. Feeling the faint drain of the prison’s runes begin to weaken his magical feelers, Xander withdrew choosing instead to let the corpses fight on his behalf.
The fighting went on for hours and the undead magicians looked to be ready to break in soon, but Xander could feel his magic waning at this pace. Keeping the walkers infused with magic was costing him dearly and he would be out of power by morning at this rate; he knew it would be better to end this fight quickly.
His preparation took less than ten seconds to visualize the runes and understand their meanings before the ground begins to rumble and a dozen earth elementals crawled out of it. It was another costly spell, but it was a calculated risk and he needed to get into the prison. “Elementals, break down the prison’s gates!”
Like the walkers before them, the elementals were quick to do as they are told. Their fists struck in unison hitting with a combined will and determination that caused the gate to creak loudly with each blow.
Xander watched all of the mayhem that he had wrought with pleasure. For fifteen years they kept him in this place where he only knew the comfort of a cold cell, sparse food, and the ravages of old age unmitigated by magic. It was only fitting that this place should fall by his hand, and if he could destroy this prison that was built with th
e sole purpose of keeping his kind from penetrating its defenses from the inside or out, then who else would willingly stand in his way? It was true that Byrn had managed both of those feats before him, but the young man did so through the use of trickery and subterfuge. Xander would do so through his mastery and sheer power!
The gate crashed down and elementals overran the inner grounds turning up rune inscribed stonework as they cleared a path for the lesser summons and reanimated magicians. Those who were more recently dead moved quickly as if they were driven by a sense of purpose in the battle that was sure to come. Those whom were buried for longer shambled and progressed more slowly as the effects of decomposition would allow them to go no faster. Behind them all came Xander Necros. He forced himself to wait before entering this place to allow his minions to do their handiwork.
Xander commanded the elementals to destroy every rune they found while the undead seemed almost delighted to fight the Kenzai guards who found that their magic blocking talents were not as effective on the dead as they were on the living. When it seemed that enough of the Kenzai had died for Xander’s satisfaction he began to weave another spell of reanimation so that those killed would be brought back to life to serve him. Kenzai guards in their heavy armor rose from where they had fallen and picked up their weapons. Along with the walkers and elementals, they breached the interior of the prison.
The ground and walls shook within the prison at the demolition that the elementals delivered with abandon. To the untrained eye the earth elementals appeared to be wreaking havoc without reason, but the earthen monsters moved with purpose. Everywhere they went throughout the prison their goal was to destroy every anti-magic rune they found, so that they way would be made clear for the necromancer and his horde of zombies.
The walkers moved in a much more deliberate fashion. Their pace was slower as they set about securing the prison. First they took the entranceway; then the first floor, killing any Kenzai guards as they came across them. Within an hour the walkers held the first two levels of the prison trapping the few guards that managed to hold out on the top floor.
Fallen Magician (The Magician Rebellion) Page 18