by Bill Ricardi
One of the tricks that both Benno and I learned from our friend and classmate Titan was the ‘Minor Polymorph’ spell. It allowed us to temporarily gain aspects of other species. We would have to sacrifice one of our more potent combat spells in order to facilitate the shifting, but that hardly mattered; a Fireball was useless underwater, and Lightning Bolts were suicidal of course. Given the environment, our spells were mainly focused on obfuscation, physical manipulation, and pure force.
My son retrieved a sticky cocoon from one of his pouches, and I followed suit. The incantation took quite some time. Nearly a minute of chanting and concentration preceded the disappearance of our material components. Twin sensations washed over me. The gut wrenching drain of Glogur’s curse scratched at the fortress of my mind, clawing away at my hard-earned intellect. But at the same time, the flesh of my neck blossomed with heat and energy. A fully functional set of gills was my reward. I was assured that this version of the spell would allow us to handle the pressure of the deep ocean as well. We didn’t expect to go down very far, but better safe than sorry.
After glancing over to make sure that Benno’s spell had worked properly, I dug a small vial from one of my many pouches. The University had provided the spell in potion form so that Ames could join us. The process was much more rapid for the feline. In seconds, the white fur on either side of Ames’ neck had receded. Parallel slits appeared as the breathing filaments formed.
We tossed a pair of rope ladders over the rail to facilitate boarding once we were finished. Then the entire family made the plunge.
The water was warm enough this time of year, at least at the surface of the ocean. The real shock came as I took my first breath underwater. In order to use my gills, I had to suck in a large quantity of water and then close my mouth. The sensation of my throat constricting to force the fluid out of the sides of my neck was… unique. I thought that something had gone horribly wrong. But sure enough, my body seemed satisfied with this absurd breathing process.
Once everyone got used to their gills, we dove. Normally underwater communication would be restricted to hand gestures. But we had a secret weapon. We swam in close formation so that Benno could reach out and touch Ames and I as needed. The three of us had practiced using his mind-to-mind communication in both mock-combat and real social situations. This was the payoff. We were able to converse normally, despite being surrounded by tons of water and rapidly plunging into the ocean’s cool embrace.
We found the sea floor after just a couple of minutes. That was reassuring. It meant that we were in close proximity to the sunken island. Panos’ sun still provided a little illumination at these depths. Even so, it took several minutes of orientation before we figured out where we should be going. Detecting the gentle upslope that would get us closer to our goal would have been the ideal job for a minotaur. Instead, two orcs and a feline painstakingly measured shadows and lengths of string. Eventually we figured it out.
We swam along the ocean floor, heading in the direction of the incline. Other than some rather beautiful angelfish, we were alone. Every once in a while, a distant but sizable silhouette played at the very edge of our vision. Possibly a shark or large tuna. Whatever it was, it didn’t approach.
Eventually the undersea landscape rose sharply before us. Ames reached out to touch Benno’s shoulder, and he in turn put a green hand on my back.
The feline’s voice spoke directly into my mind, “Did you say that the temple was built into a cliffside? I see a cave of some sort.”
I strained my eyes upwards, but saw nothing. I trusted my mate’s vision far more than my own, however. Using Benno as a conduit, I replied, “That could be it. We’ll follow your lead.”
My muscles were burning a bit from all of the activity. I consider myself a good swimmer, but this was a longer and more intense outing than I was used to. Benno was grimacing as well. His younger body didn’t suffer the same kind of muscular strain as mine did, but he still hadn’t developed his full adult muscle mass or typical orcish endurance. Ames, who seemed to be more fish than cat at the moment, had to slow the pace significantly in order to allow us to keep up.
A rock overhang left the cave’s entrance in shadow. I fumbled with one of my pouches, but eventually managed to loop the Light enchanted necklace around my neck. My son followed suit once he realized what I was doing. Ames gave me a pat on the head, which I assumed was approval. With the mouth of the cave illuminated, we swam inside.
The rough, algae covered stone gave way to smooth, lovingly hewn hallways. The soft blue-white glow of our Light spells revealed the work of artisans from the last millennium. Bas-relief portraits of benevolent goddesses lined the walls, seemingly unphased by over a century of watery isolation. They watched us with infinite kindness and patience as we approached the shrine’s grand stairway.
Apparently the internal cavity of the temple was intact, as the ocean was unable to push out the trapped air. By the tenth granite step, we breached the surface of the water. Ames touched Benno’s shoulder, who in turn touched mine.
My feline’s voice sounded in our minds, “The air could be stale or poisonous. Grab my ankle and tug me back under the water if I start to choke.”
Benno and I were thinking the same thing, but he stated it first, “You mean continue to choke. You’re going to have to cough up all of that water before you try to breathe the air again.”
Ames looked at me, clearly alarmed. I was already nodding, confirming my son’s statement.
The were-cat’s thoughts were tinged with disgust that we hadn’t shared that piece of information earlier. “I hate you both so much right now.”
Benno and I each grabbed one of Ames’ ankles. Once the feline’s gills were clear of the water, the reaction was immediate. Ames’ body went rigid. The next breath that the were-cat attempted to draw caused a primal reaction within my mate. Seawater spewed from the cat’s maw, gills, and nostrils. This was followed by a horrific gasping sound. The coughing went on for half a minute as the remainder of the fluid was expelled from Ames’ lungs. As terrible as this looked, Benno and I saw and experienced it in training. Thus we didn’t confuse the reaction with poor air quality.
Once Ames assured us that the air was breathable, Benno and I went through the same process. By the time I was able to use my lungs again, my ribs were sore and my head pounded. But I was in for a pleasant surprise. Not only was the air breathable, it was pristine. I inhaled deeply. The crisp, clean sensation that followed was a balm to my aching chest.
The three of us climbed up the remaining half a dozen steps. The vista that awaited was nothing short of beatific. The domed worshiping chamber was massive, cavernous. It was easily thirty paces in every direction. Hovering directly in the center of this sacred space was a crystalline orb. Pure golden illumination poured from the levitating quartz, as in if a Noon Sunlight spell had achieved some kind of permanence within its flawless depths. The natural light gave rise to patches of moss and flowers in every corner of the temple. Ivy rose along the walls and coiled around the eight stone pillars that supported the void within the cliffside. Colonies of bees had built impressive hives behind ancient statues whose details were eventually worn smooth by the traversal of hundreds of millions of tiny legs.
At the center of it all was a white marble altar. It bore no symbol and supported no objects. The perfectly rectangular slab of stone simply bathed in that inexplicable sunlight for all eternity.
We spanned the distance between the stairs and the altar in what seemed like both an eon and the briefest instant. I couldn’t seem to recall the steps taken, as if time itself was meaningless here. Intention was everything. And my intent was to reach out and touch this perfect altar.
Benno’s hand suddenly clamped onto my wrist, the motion so quick and powerful that I was sure he would end up leaving a bruise. He said, “Wait.” The word was filled with wonder and a little horror.
Ames asked, “What is it kiddo? A trap?”
I
couldn’t tear my gaze away from the holy stone. I listened for Benno’s reply however. No matter how much I wanted to feel the essence of the altar, to be one with it… I trusted my son.
After a pregnant pause, the younger orc murmured, “The aura. It is one of dimensional magic. It’s more powerful than any aura I’ve ever been exposed to. It feels like it could swallow us all effortlessly.”
The words poured from my lips before I even knew I was articulating them. “Take us there.”
Ames murmured, “Inside it, hon? That Astral thing?”
I felt Benno shaking through the powerful grip he had on my arm. He was scared. “Are you sure?”
I murmured, “Trust me. We’re going to see an old friend.” It was my voice, and I knew that I was speaking the truth. But I had no idea where the knowledge or intent of the words was coming from.
My son’s grip upon my wrist loosened, just as Ames laid a fuzzy paw on the lad’s opposite shoulder. We all closed our eyes and waited for Benno to use his rarified talent.
“Well. I didn’t expect you to dress up for the occasion, but I’m not certain that undressing for the occasion was all that appropriate either.”
The voice was one that I had heard before. When I opened my Astral eyes, I already knew who I would see. The woman in the blizzard. An old friend.
I cleared my throat, and then mentioned, “I’m afraid your temple is under the ocean now, Omi-Suteth. It was quite a swim.”
The old goddess of magic took a form that I would understand. She was a vortex of snow encased in a feminine outline. The white cyclone was beautiful when seen in contrast to the perfect darkness of the Astral horizon.
The goddess nodded. “Fine. Well, are you going to introduce me to your family?”
I had to smile. It was such an absurd situation to be adhering to formalities. Nevertheless, I said, “Ames, Benno. This is Omi-Suteth. We have history.”
I glanced over to see why the two hadn’t made a polite greeting of some kind. Were-cat and young orc were standing there with their jaws hanging open.
Omi-Suteth said, “It’s alright mortals. I assure you, there will be no smiting or cursing as a result of any perceived breach in protocol.”
Ames finally managed, “I-it’s a pleasure.”
While Benno only got out a simple, “Hi there.”
I said, “They’re normally far more talkative than this.”
The goddess explained, “A mortal’s perception of deities changes based on experience and expectations. Did you not notice that this encounter is far more…”
I considered an appropriate word. “Conversational?”
“Yes, that’s the word. Less intimidating. Dare I say, less one sided. That’s because you are not a novice when it comes to communing with the gods, are you Sorch Stonebreaker?”
I took the moniker in stride. Omi-Suteth taking liberties with my name was nothing new. “I suppose not. I’m an old hand.”
The vortex of snow drifted close. Spectral ‘hands’ hovered over my forehead. “The latest spell that the Headmaster created for you. It shields you from Glogur's legacy in a fairly impressive fashion.”
I murmured, “It does indeed. We call it Max’s Expanded Intelligence. Normally a single casting shelters me from a reasonable amount of drain.”
“But at great cost.”
I agreed with the goddess. “At great cost. One of my most powerful spells for the day, and a sacrifice of gold.”
Benno’s voice cut through whatever reply Omi-Suteth might have had, “The cost is far too high. Why must we pay it? When is enough enough?”
Ames’ paw clamped down firmly on my son’s shoulder, in silent warning.
Omi-Suteth wasn’t angry, however. If anything, the goddess’ tone was sad. “Young magus. Sometimes we do things that we wish we could take back. In the heat of the moment or in the cold fury of the aftermath, hurtful things get said. Unwise challenges are issued. And… and though a remnant of love might remain, all else is lost.”
Benno grit his teeth. He didn’t reply.
Ames spoke up instead. “Goddess. We’ve come seeking your wisdom. There is a blight upon our world. Rains do not fall in some places, but drown others. The sea rises, taking not only your temple, but the homes and livelihoods of mortals. The sun bakes down in other places, stunting the growth of plant and animal alike. Can you tell us why?”
Omi-Suteth asided to me, “You’ve chosen well.”
I had to smile at the divine complement.
The goddess turned to address Ames, the miniature tornado of ice and snow approaching the wary-looking were-cat.
“Panos bleeds. The fault lies both in the behaviour of her people and in the manner of her creation. The gods are not faultless in this matter. And yet our agreement, sealed by Koroth the Broker, prohibits us from providing any kind of direct solution I’m afraid.”
Ames frowned. In other situations, I might expect my mate to resort to less political language. “So you know what’s wrong, but you can’t help us?”
The goddess said, “I cannot. But another among us can. Sorch has shaped, and broken, but now he must mend.”
Benno looked at me, “Dad? You can fix this?”
I held my arms up, helplessly. “If I can do something, I’m willing. Please tell me how I can help.”
Omi-Suteth said, “You must be open to new opportunity.”
The silence, even in the Astral plane, was deafening.
I said, “Okay, could you expand on that?”
“You must be open to new opportunity.”
It was Benno who expressed frustration first, “I think we might be in the wrong place. I thought we were speaking to Omi-Suteth, not a two-copper medium at the harvest fair.”
Omi-Suteth was taken aback. “My child, I-”
But Ames joined right in, “We travelled half way across Panos for ‘open to new opportunity’? Are we going to meet any tall dark strangers on the way?”
The goddess sensed the tide turning against her. She said, “That’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid.”
My own frustration boiled over, “I stopped a demonic invasion, had my body completely obliterated, and blew up the Voodoo Engine to reach this point. And you’re giving me the same advice that I could have gotten from a tipsy carnival trollop with a bunch of tarot cards?!”
“...goodbye my children.”
And with that, we were banished from the Astral plane.
Knowing that we had less than an hour before our transformation wore off, Benno suggested that we head back to the ship immediately. We didn’t discuss the fortune-teller level ‘wisdom’ that we received until after the three of us were safely back on the Taboo. There was a lot of whisky imbibed with our evening meal. In our heightened state of agitation, some rather impolite things may have been said about Omi-Suteth and her breeding habits.
And yet, I had a feeling that we were on the right path. Or to be more precise, if Omi-Suteth really was correct, we would cross paths with the right people soon enough.
Chapter 2
The night watch was when it was worst. I shouldn’t actually say ‘worst’ though. The memories were rarely painful. Perhaps ‘intense’ is a better word.
We were on our way back to Limt to meet some old friends and take the Circle of Transport back to the Arcane University. The Taboo was cutting effortlessly through the gentle waves. All I needed to do was keep my hands on the wheel. But with nothing to focus on, it was quite easy for my mind to drift. When we started this trip, it was Early Fall of the year 2720.
But in my head it was the Spring of 2719, and I was keeping the company of were-wolves.
Master Gideon was a gentle man, a loving father to his daughter Jess and his soon-to-be step son Leeson. He was patient with the younger students, respectful of the faculty, and generous with the rest of the staff.
Most of them had no idea what a truly frightening son of a bitch he was.
Gideon’s combat prowess was more than
just theoretical. He had seen combat, and a lot of it. The burly brown furred were-wolf never talked about specific battles that he participated in; but when he spoke of combat tactics and magical destruction, it was clear that he was relating first hand experience.
“Wrap it around your forearms when you pull, or your fingers will snap like twigs!”
Perhaps unwisely, I was bound to Master Gideon by a seven pace length of pulsing black chains, thick enough for naval use. The Ebon Chains of Binding were wrapped around both my waist and his, twin strands of the eldritch metal stretching across the breadth of the Advanced Summoning chamber.
I don’t recall who cast the spell this time around, but I found myself hoping that it was the were-wolf. This memory was from before my mastery of Max’s Expanded Intelligence, and a single casting of the Ebon Chains wiped out most of my intellect enhancement for the day. This was one of the elite combat spells that I had chosen to learn in order to accomplish my graduation tests at the end of the year. I had no issues with the theoretical aspects of the casting. However, Gideon made it clear that he expected a more practical demonstration of my prowess when the day came.
The were-wolf was showing me his technique for reeling in the hapless victim of this highly personal combat spell. “Wrap the arm, then step forward and pull at the same time. The spell will take up the slack for you automatically. You’ve seen Hemitath’s snake strangle her prey. Would you rather be the boa, or the rabbit?”
It didn’t surprise me that Master Gideon watched Dutch hunt. For all I knew, he may have even been an active participant. I grunted and shouted across to the combat mage, “The boa, but rabbits generally don’t have massive claws and dripping fangs!” Nevertheless, I reeled in the were-wolf as per his instruction.
He did the same, closing the distance while keeping maximum tension on the binding chains. “Keep that fact in mind. This is an incantation generally reserved for were-wolf arcanists or other naturally beweaponed combat mages. Never had an orc student, of course. But things get gritty really fast once you’re in range, so pick your targets carefully.”