The Sorcerer's Torment (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Brock Deskins

  The sights, sounds, and at least some of the pain left as quickly as it had come. Total blackness replaced the chaotic images and noise. He was certain that he had not slipped into unconsciousness. At least not like any form of slumber or trauma-inflicted blackouts he had experienced before. His body floated in an ethereal oblivion, but he was aware. He could think but he could not feel, hear, or see anything.

  Where was he? Was he still on his bed in his room? Was his mind shattered? Did his body live on as a mindless shell? Would he exist until he starved to death, or would his consciousness live on in this endless void even then, floating through this nothingness for all eternity? All of these questions ran through his mind.

  Azerick found that by concentrating he could move his body. At least he thought he was moving. There was no sense of movement since there was no object on which he could orient himself by which to judge his movement.

  As he slowly turned, he thought he spied a thin line in the distance that was slightly brighter than the blackness around him. Azerick blinked, unsure if he really saw anything at all. He slowly turned his head from left to right and picked up the line in the very periphery of his vision. He imagined himself moving towards it at an oblique angle so that he would not lose sight of it again. As he drew nearer, the line grew brighter so that he could now look at it straight on without losing it.

  Azerick stared confusingly at the jagged line that hung in the empty void, unsure of what it was. It appeared to be a hair-thin crack in fine crystal, if crystal were made of perfect blackness and had no substance. He pondered this enigma for an indeterminate amount of time. Time simply had no meaning here, wherever here was. Azerick concentrated and circled around it. He felt a sudden sense of unease, almost panic, when the mystical fissure disappeared. Azerick was relieved when it reappeared as he came full circle and floated before it once again.

  It appeared that whatever it was existed only in two dimensions, much like magus Allister’s gate spell. On a whim, he pressed his eye against the faint line wondering if he could see anything beyond it. Through the fracture, he could see Delinda weeping over his prostrate form lying on the bed. His view shifted and he could see himself lying on his bed through her eyes. Azerick looked closer and saw a golden aura limning his body.

  He was certain that Delinda could not see this aura, but he could not say how he knew. He looked at his own floating body within the void and saw that it was limned in a sickly green instead of gold. Azerick looked back through the fissure and studied Delinda. She too was outlined in the same sickly green aura that he had in this place.

  Why did he have two different auras? He floated in an endless void that he was certain was not a physical place. It possessed a flaw that allowed him to see the physical world, but his body had a different aura there. Delinda had the same aura in the physical world that he had in this one.

  The flaw is in my psyche! The green aura is the taint of the psyling’s mental control. The fissure is a crack in the mental domination that Lord Xornan has over me.

  Through that tiny breach, he saw himself free of his master’s mental shackles! Azerick began shouting, kicking, and clawing savagely at the flaw in an attempt to widen it. If he could get his spirit through it, he would be free!

  He knew what he would do if he could free himself. He prayed that he would have the luxury of time to inflict the amount of pain that he desired onto the psyling. He threw his mind at it with all his will. He imagined a mental wedge jammed into the crack and forcing the fissure to expand.

  There at the end, it split just a fraction! He redoubled his kicking and mental pounding and watched as the crack expanded millimeter by millimeter. Azerick started to realize that the blackness was growing lighter. Black turned to grey and grey slowly turned to white. The white began resolving itself into colors that became shapes. He realized that that the shapes were the objects in his room and Delinda sitting next to his bed.

  “Azerick, oh Azerick I thought he killed you!” She wept and threw herself onto him, holding him tightly.

  Azerick tried to shove her away. “No! No, I have to go back! I was almost out! I was almost free!”

  Delinda sat up with tears in her eyes and a look of shock on her face. “What do you mean you were almost free? What’s wrong with you? Are you hurt?”

  “Xornan’s control, I was almost free of Xornan’s control! I could see myself through a weakness in his control. I do not know how it got there, but I think it has something to do with whatever he did to me. I think he caused a small breach in whatever it is that controls us,” he tried to explain to her, his voice full of frustration.

  “I’m not sure what you mean. I am just glad that you are all right now. Are you ok?”

  “My head hurts terribly, but I think I’m all right. At least as all right as I was before.”

  Azerick reached out with his mind to touch the Source and found it there to do his bidding just as it had been before. He touched his wounds and found that they were still tender, but not debilitating. He got out of bed and washed up with the fresh water in his washbasin then got dressed, eager to move about once more. His muscles felt weak and clumsy and he tired quickly. He sat back down on the edge of his bed and held Delinda’s hand.

  “How long was I out this time?” he asked, feeling a bit ashamed that he was neglecting Delinda’s concern for him.

  “Three more days. I heard you screaming and ran up the stairs, but I dared not enter the room. I wanted to rush in and claw that beast’s eyes out with my bare hands for whatever he was doing to you, but I could not. I do not see any wounds on you. How did he hurt you?” she asked as she stroked his shoulder.

  “He brought back my most horrible memories and twisted them to make them even worse. Then he did something to me. I do not know what he did, but it hurt badly. When I came back to my senses, I was floating in a lightless void bereft of all sensations. Then I saw the crack or breach in my mind. I tried to break through and was starting to succeed before I woke and was pulled away from it.”

  Delinda looked at Azerick quizzically. “Can’t you find it again? If you found it before you can find it again and free yourself.”

  Azerick shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I don’t know how I got to wherever I was or how I could possibly get back there.”

  “Maybe you can enter a trance or through meditation of some kind. If it can be done, I know you can do it. You will find a way.”

  Azerick hugged her tightly and kissed her, grateful for her confidence in him. “Let’s go for a walk. I need some fresh air.”

  “Are you sure you’re strong enough?”

  “My head is still a little loopy, but I really need to get out. Walk with me through the garden.”

  Delinda helped him stand and slipped her shoulder under his arm. “All right, but let me help you, at least on the stairs.”

  “Gladly,” he replied.

  Azerick was able to cross the room without trouble but he was grateful for Delinda’s steadying hand traversing the stairs. She helped guide him through the glass-paned double doors that led into the garden. Azerick relished the cool air even though the smells of city life tainted it. Negotiating the stairs had taken a considerable amount of energy out of him and he was ready to take a rest on the first marble bench they came to.

  “I wonder how long it will take our spider-faced master to find out he didn’t kill or cripple me,” Azerick posed to Delinda as they sat down on a bench under a red leafed tree that bore a resemblance to a maple tree.

  Not long at all, my pet, came Lord Xornan’s immediate reply.

  Azerick jumped despite himself and looked furtively around. The psyling had silently walked up on them and was standing just a few yards down the path that Azerick and Delinda had just come down. Delinda gasped in surprise and Azerick could feel her shiver in fear.

  Do not be terribly alarmed. I have grown accustomed to your impertinence and find your feeble attempts at resistance amusing, on
occasion. Do not presume to construe my tolerance for license to act inappropriately. It would be unpleasant for you if you should overstep your bounds or try my good humor.

  “You seem be in a better mood than when you last saw me,” Azerick told him with a scowl.

  It was necessary. I am pleased you survived. I have too much invested in you to have you easily replaced. Have you discovered the gift I gave you yet?

  “If you mean the splitting headache and horrible nightmares, then yes.”

  I expect that you will return to your studies tomorrow or the next day. Search your mind and you will find that I have paved a path to new potent spells. It is beyond even my extraordinary power to imbue you with the ability to know them outright. It will require study and training, but I have laid out the path for you. It will still take a great deal of work on your part, so do not procrastinate.

  The psyling stared at Delinda for several uncomfortable seconds and then turned around and padded off the way he had come. Delinda and Azerick both knew that he had allowed her to hear his instructions to Azerick as a warning not to distract him.

  “Do you know what he meant by that?” Delinda asked as the vile lord glided away.

  “I think so; in a vague sort of way. I’ll find out more the next time I study.”

  Azerick’s greatest fear was that the psyling would discover this flaw in his control and close it. The sorcerer did not know if he could do anything to prevent its discover if the creature purposefully searched his mind, but he would do his best to avoid any errant thoughts of it to surface and just pray it was sufficient.

  The couple resumed their walk before Azerick decided that he needed to return to his room and sleep. Whatever limbo he had been in had not afforded much, if any, real rest. He woke early enough the next morning to break his fast with Delinda before going to the library to study.

  He sat in the center of the room, relaxed, and slipped into a state of meditation. Normally he would connect with the Source while in this state, but this time he decided to see if he could delve deeper into his own mind, into the same void that Lord Xornan’s mental assault had sent him.

  He was able to reach a state of extreme relaxation and introspection but nowhere near the level that took him to total sensory deprivation. Azerick did discover something odd however. He searched his mind and found several partial patterns as well as casting techniques that had not existed before. He studied the sigils intently and recognized that they were weavings for new spells, but they were incomplete.

  Even in their incomplete form, he was able to deduce their meaning and effect through detailed study. They were potent spells indeed. Two spells were earth related and were based on similar properties to the spell he had created himself that he had used to defeat Rangor in his last battle.

  Lord Xornan must have examined his mind for what he already knew and used that information, along with his own understanding of magic, to forge the basis of the spell within his mind. The other spell was a more powerful version of the spell that helped shield him from magical attacks. If he should ever fight another spell caster, that would prove to be invaluable.

  The other bits of knowledge that the psyling literally rammed into his brain involved two separate casting techniques. One allowed him to cast spells without verbal commands, and the other without the need of somatic gestures. Both required a great deal more energy and focus to accomplish such a feat. Azerick was ecstatic at his new discoveries but he would still kill his master most painfully the first chance he got.

  As Azerick studied these new spell weavings, he also realized that he needed to find a way to move about the arena more rapidly. Rangor’s magically enhanced speed had taken him by surprise and he could not disengage himself from melee combat to make effective use of his magical powers. He thought about the magical doorway that Allister had used that day the old mage had entered his old home. That would work. He just hoped that he had the time to research it before his next battle. For now, he would focus his energy on the new weavings and casting techniques.

  Delinda was excited for Azerick as he enthusiastically told her about what he had discovered.

  “But what about being unconscious? What about that crack, or whatever it was you saw? What if it is some kind of damage he did inside your brain?”

  Azerick shrugged knowing there was little he could do about it if that were the case. “I seem to be all right, all things considered.”

  “Just be careful please,” she begged. “The gods only know what he did to you.”

  “I will, love. Don’t worry about me,” he said comfortingly.

  “Impossible, I always worry about you.”

  So far, Lord Xornan left Azerick to his studies without interference, nor was he forced to fight in any more arena battles. Even with splitting his time between his studies and his cataloging duties, he managed to hone his new spells and abilities to an acceptable level of proficiency within a month. Such progression, to his knowledge, was unheard of.

  Lord Xornan occasionally checked on his progress to ensure that his pet was progressing as he should. Satisfied that Azerick was not neglecting his responsibilities, he left the sorcerer mostly to himself. It was towards the end of the month after he had recovered that the psyling appeared in the vault with half a score of minotaur and human guards; all equipped for conflict and an extended expedition.

  I will be gone for a time. Continue to study and work with due diligence on your other duties. Expect your next tournament shortly after I return.

  The psyling paused and looked at the foul, black staff that still rested untouched in the far corner of the chamber. After a few moments of contemplation, he crossed the room and took possession of the sinister artifact before opening the gate and crossing through with his entourage. Only inky blackness lay just on the other side of the shimmering gateway.

  Azerick paid close attention to the operation of the portal as he always did, knowing that if he were ever able to free himself and Delinda that this was the best hope for their escape.

  With their master away, he and Delinda were able to spend more time together, particularly the nights. The time he spent with her was the greatest joy he had experienced for as long as he could remember. He prayed fervently to any god that would listen that one day they would be able to be together without the dark cloud of fear that always hung over them as slaves to an evil and capricious master.

  Another three weeks passed before Lord Xornan unexpectedly returned late one night. Delinda woke and jumped from the bed she shared with Azerick, her husband in her mind. She and Azerick had pledged their vows to one another and considered themselves a married couple even if there were no priests or governing lords to officiate their union.

  “What is it?” Azerick asked, fully alert the moment he felt Delinda spring up from the bed.

  “The master has returned. He summons me. I have to go tend to him,” she told him hurriedly as she threw a long shift over herself and pulled on her slippers.

  Azerick threw on a robe, donned his own slippers, and followed her out of the room with a sigh. He had to run to keep up with her as she bolted up the stairs, not wanting to keep the master waiting. They met Lord Xornan partway up the stairs with his guards in tow. He managed to return with a higher percentage of his guards this time, though still fewer than when he had left. The psyling’s robes were scorched and tattered and all of his guards showed signs of combat as well.

  Delinda, attend to my guards and me downstairs. Pet, you know what to do with this, he said as he shoved a thick, leather and wood-bound tome into Azerick’s hands.

  Delinda followed the group downstairs while Azerick continued the ascent to the vault chamber with his master’s newest acquisition. He was going to just stuff it on a shelf and deal with it in the morning, but he was awake now and his curiosity won out against his desire to return to his bed.

  The book was written in a familiar language, but with a very old style grammar and syntax as if written
from centuries past. As he delved deeper into the pages, he began to find historical references to people and events that occurred in his own kingdom’s past. He soon realized that this book must have come from his own world! He tried to recall the exact sequence that Lord Xornan had used to open the gate. When he was certain that he remembered everything correctly, he wrote it down in the ledger of his catalog book so that he could duplicate the process if he ever got the chance.

  Beyond the fact that the book came from his world there was a fantastic amount of information regarding ancient forms of magic that had been lost over the centuries. There was a treatise written in great detail by a wizard of obviously extraordinary power. It detailed magical concepts and spell mastery that was unheard of today by any wizard or in any writings that he knew of. Much of this writing was far beyond Azerick’s understanding, but years or even decades of study may change that.

  Azerick was so absorbed in his readings that he lost track of time. His stomach told him it was probably past time to break his fast with Delinda, but he walked briskly down the stairs in hopes of catching her still in the kitchen. He felt a bit of disappointment when he strode through the kitchen door to be greeted only by Cook and the smell of fried ham, eggs, and oatmeal.

  “Morning, Cook. Have you seen Delinda this morning?” Azerick asked as he resigned himself to the small empty table against the kitchen wall.

  “Aye, lad. She has been shuttling plates of food to Lord Xornan’s men and tending their hurts all morning. Ah, I think I hear her coming now,” he replied as the door swung open.

  Azerick looked into Delinda’s tired eyes, which brightened immediately when she saw him sitting in the kitchen waiting for her. “Oh, I’m glad you made it. Did you stay up also, or did you go back to bed?” she asked.

  “I stayed up. The book he brought back was too fascinating for me to go back to bed—at least alone.”

  “Good. I was getting peevish with jealousy thinking of you sleeping away the morning while I was up working,” she said with a smile.