by Billy Wong
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Derrick watched wide-eyed as his friends sparred strangely in the field, Rose pitting sword and shield against Finn's mace, shield, and spells. Finn could tell the scholar marveled that nobody got killed. But he and Rose knew what they were doing, and though even Finn himself had worried about using magic against his love, she'd insisted, reminding him of her incredible toughness even if she did catch a hard hit.
Already, the young spring grass was covered with blackened patches, frozen patches, and bumps and dips where Finn had aimed attack spells at Rose. The sturdy woman had indeed been hit by several of the streams of flame, lightning bolts, and gusts of cold (the most effective, at least in making her curse) Finn recklessly threw around. She hardly seemed to mind, assuring him she was fine and laughing now as she dodged a roaring fireball. Finn slowed with fatigue, and Rose took advantage to bowl him over, pin him down, and level her broadsword at his throat.
"I win again!" the soot-covered warrioress exclaimed.
Finn smiled. "I'll get you soon. I'm still learning, after all."
It surprised him how well Rose still stood up to him despite his newfound abilities. Many of the spells he'd thrown at her had been labeled as potentially lethal attacks, and he would've expected them to at least stun her badly. But she'd taken such blows to little effect. He wondered too if he could similarly shake off magical attacks, if to a lesser extent. After all, there didn't seem to be anything more to it than the fact Rose was just that tough. Finn wasn't exactly a delicate flower, either.
Derrick trotted over to join them, looking with concern at Rose. "You okay? Finn doesn't hold back much, does he?"
"I'm okay. You think a little weather can stop me? Though, I was really impressed with you, Finn. You integrate your magic into your fighting well. I doubt most of the ancients were as athletic as you!" Rose meant, Finn knew, his tendency to keep moving and fighting while casting his spells, and to hide just when and where he'd unleash his attack—certainly abilities he took pride in.
Finn shrugged. "Doesn't matter a lick if I still can't beat you." Rose laughed, and he added, "I really didn't think I'd even be able to do much more than heat up a cup by now, though. I guess I'm more suited to spellcasting than I thought."
"I guess you are," Rose answered distractedly, and Finn realized she was looking at some blistering skin on her hand. She looked up and said flatly, "You hurt me."
"Sorry. It's nothing, right? You're okay?" He hadn't really been thinking while they sparred, and guilt set in as he realized just how ruthlessly he'd been attacking her. "Seems I'm far from a wise sage."
Rose stopped tending to her burn and squeezed his arm. "It's okay. I've been hurt ten times as bad and passed it off as a scratch. Besides, it's not like I haven't given you your share of bumps and bruises."
Derrick wouldn't let him off that easily. "Don't downplay what he did. If it had been me out there, I would be dead or close to it after any one of those blasts. Just because you were fortunately the victim doesn't excuse Finn's recklessness. You've got to learn control, big man. I'd hate to see you do something regrettable in a moment of anger."
Finn knew he had a point, but his condescending tone angered him. When it came to the stupid magic, nothing he did was ever good enough for Derrick, who treated him like a baby. But he was nearly a decade older; and since when, before gaining magic, had he not needed to tread carefully with his own great strength?
"I only went a little far, it's not like I burned down an inn. I was just excited about trying my spells in combat—I think you would've been too, doubly so even. And people with double standards can be pretty quick to draw my anger."
Derrick gaped, clearly startled and hurt by the threat. Finn thought to take it back, but before he could the scholar screamed at him, furious tears shimmering in his eyes. "You brute! The gods must be crazy to choose you to return magic to the world! You're nothing but a bully and a braggart, who cares for nothing but your own strength and glory! This is like putting an ogre in charge of a country! It should've been someone who appreciates the value of knowledge who got this honor! It should've been... me..."
Finn tried to remind his friend, "I didn't choose..." but Derrick was already running away to nowhere. He hadn't chosen to bear the burden of magic, and now his friendship suffered for it. Why had he insisted on opening the damn book, when he didn't even read books? He started to get up, intending to chase after the young man, but Rose grabbed his arm.
She shook her head, lightning-frizzled hair waving stiffly about. "Don't. He won't take kindly to any words from you right now. Let him be for a little while. Soon he'll feel guilty and come back to apologize, I'm sure. He likes you too much not to."
"I didn't mean it, you know. I wouldn't have hurt him."
Doubt showed on her face. "You've hit me pretty hard at times... and I'm pretty sure you love me more than him."
"You can take it, though, remember?"
"I know. Don't worry, Finn, I love you anyway."
"I know you do." He flopped back onto the grass where he'd lain under Rose before the argument. Though he'd gotten more used to the strain of spellcasting, he was still weary after the intense contest he'd just endured. "So, how do you rate me?"
"As a lover or a fighter? Top notch either way!"
"I meant as a bringer of spellcasting back after centuries of disuse."
"Not bad at all. You're a fast learner. I'm not sure Derrick would really have done any better." Not at all seriously, she teased, "I could've done better."
Finn smiled. "Probably. Shouldn't you catch Derrick before he ends up like Jerome?"
"Jerome survived. Besides, it's Hullel. Nothing to worry about. I think a little walk will do him some good, anyway."
#
Derrick stomped down the road with no care for where he was going. Stupid Finn, how could he take the most important of roles so lightly and play with such monumental forces so carelessly? And Rose! He'd thought her a wiser person than to let her man continue his reckless ways unchecked. Why, if Derrick were the one who could cast spells, he'd make sure to put people he could trust around him to guide him.
With a start, he realized Finn had done exactly that. Rose and Derrick himself were among the few the newfound mage trusted completely. And by running away, Derrick betrayed that trust. He thought to turn back then, to find his friend and apologize to him. But he was still angry, and thought the warrior could use some time to think about his faults and motivate himself to learn more control. So he walked on, wondering if Finn would have learned a lesson by the time he went back.
A short time later, a venomous voice stopped him in his tracks. The female mariner Morgan Cross stood before him, having just emerged from the bushes on the roadside. "What a fine twist of fate this is. To find the least of your little group, you, all alone. I came to kill all of you, but it won't make things any harder for you to be out of the way."
Derrick stared. He wondered how she'd thought to kill his friends by herself, and saw the answer in the glistening liquid on the blades at her waist. Poison. She was still way overestimating herself, though it might not matter for him in his lonely predicament. That didn't answer his other question, though.
"The hell? How long have you been hiding there in the bushes?!"
"I wasn't hiding..." She wouldn't say more, but her embarrassed look and unbuckled belt told the story. Derrick laughed, and Morgan's face crinkled up with fury. She rushed him, drawing two envenomed cutlasses. For a moment, Derrick wondered if he could take her. He wasn't too bad a fighter. But the way she had whipped out those blades suggested considerable speed and skill, and people with two weapons intimidated him. Then, of course, there was the poison. He turned and ran.
#
Rose spotted the strange flying shape and poked Finn, who was gulping down soup to restore his energy. "What the hell is that? Doesn't look like a bird, does it?"
Finn looked up from his bowl to see what seemed to be a blue man-shaped object f
lying with great speed towards them. As it drew closer, he realized, "Hey, it looks exactly like Sumafu's statue. But that thing wasn't magical, right?"
"Whatever it is, I doubt it's friendly. Get up, and ready to fight!"
The man-dragon swooped down at them, assailing their hearts with supernatural terror. It must have been eight feet tall, and wider and more solid than the strongest of men. An army might have parted at the waves of overwhelming fear, but the lovers knew flight would not avail them here and stood their ground against the diving beast.
Closing in, it muttered quick words of power, and a river of flame scorched the ground between them as they rolled in opposite directions. The creature landed next to Rose and attempted to grab her by the neck. She hacked at the thing's reaching arm, but though she knocked the limb off course, it didn't seem much harmed. Chanting a spell of his own, Finn blasted the man-dragon with a lightning bolt. It smiled grotesquely and retaliated with a similar spell, only far more powerful, a gigantic spear of electricity which split the ground as Finn barely evaded.
A powerful shield-rim blow from Rose made the creature stumble, but when she tried to follow up with a downward slash, it leapt away as smoothly as a kite blown back by a light breeze. Before even landing it forcefully chanted another spell. Weakness threatened to overtake every part of Rose's body—such weakness, she somehow recognized, that her very heart and brain would have shut down. But she summoned back her strength through pure will, and it passed as does a momentary chill. As the man-dragon stared in shock at the failure of its death-spell, she fixed an offended glare on it for daring to try and steal such a cheap victory.
#
Derrick ran and ran, but his pursuer was no mean runner herself and soon caught up, forcing him to turn and parry her blows. He warded off a series of quick slashes, then found himself disarmed as Morgan used both her swords to hook his blade and wrench it away. But as the arrogant slaver smiled tauntingly at him, he took the opportunity to land a kick to her solid midsection and knock her back a step. Again he sprinted away, his infuriated opponent recovering to give chase a moment later.
As Rose's house came into sight, Derrick thought to scream for his friends' aid, but what he then saw made him stop and stare in wonder. Rose and Finn battled against a creature identical to the statue in Sumafu's palace, which cast spells far more powerful than Finn's, reshaping the very ground as they hit. He realized then that Morgan must also have stopped to watch the spectacle, as she hadn't cut him down yet. So he spun drawing his dagger, and threw it with all his strength into the distracted slaver's breast.
#
The wave of flame from Finn which engulfed the man-dragon rolled harmlessly over it like a wave breaking over immovable rocks, and the grinning thing sent Rose onto her back with a punch that lifted her off her feet. She planted her boot into its crotch with all the strength of her massive thigh and leg, knocking it through the air. But it hardly missed a beat, continuing its backward movement to glide into Finn and batter him with the powerful wings on its back. It dodged his mace swing at its head with uncanny grace and turned to headbutt him to the ground.
A desperate spell from Finn sent a gust of freezing cold into the thing's eyes. It only smirked and kicked him, sharp claws slashing open his face. Was it ever so slightly bluer than before? "No more spells!" Rose screamed then. "They do nothing, if not strengthen it!" But it seemed to Finn that this insight had been a tad long in coming, and he wondered why he hadn't realized it before. He sank to the ground, completely exhausted and sweating heavily with terror for Rose and himself.
#
Morgan's hands went slowly to her chest, still holding onto her swords, and Derrick waited for her to fall. But the slaver only scowled, her leather armor and ample breasts saving her vitals. After gingerly touching the protruding hilt, she raised her blades and charged screaming, the other battle forgotten in her rage. Derrick knew she had to be hurt, but she hardly seemed slower as she chased him into Rose's house—only for him to slam the heavy door into her face.
The power of the hit shook him to the bone, but Morgan was on his heels moments later as he fled into the library. He ducked below a powerful slash which would have decapitated him and pulled the bookcase before him forward, diving out of the way as hundreds of pounds of books and wood fell on the slaver. He looked to see if she was still moving, and felt a surge of hopelessness as the bookcase was lifted up from below. Morgan heaved herself out, bleeding, bruised, and frighteningly livid.
#
Rose tackled the man-dragon from behind, wrapping her arms around the beast and throwing it to the ground. It rolled with the fall and came up firing a beam of intense flame from its mouth, burning her chest and shoulder badly despite her armor which partially melted. She ignored the pain and spun past the thick beam, slamming her heavy broadsword as she turned into her opponent's neck.
Still the steel-like hide held and no blood was drawn, but for the first time, the agile man-dragon fell hard on its back and did not recover instantly. Rose raised her sword to chop down until it finally broke apart and died, but sharp blades of ice condensed from the vapor in the air and bombarded her, shredding flesh and driving her back. She heard a voice like thunder in her head.
What strong humans! It's fitting that I was revived by such mighty ones. Is it so hard for you to relinquish your hold on life? You have done your part; now, leave the rest to me!
#
The wounded slaver still swayed dizzily as she raised herself to her knees, and Derrick knew he had to act now. Looking for weaknesses in his unstoppable foe, he found one at a glance. He kicked the knife hilt sticking out of her chest with all his strength. Morgan screamed as the knife moved within her, and more blood poured forth. But the force of his kick broke the blade, and the hilt went skidding away. Morgan put a hand on the wall and began to pull herself up. Desperately Derrick again threw the hardest kick he could muster, this time at her already blood-covered face.
Her head snapped back, bright blood spraying from her nostrils, but she stood anyway and smashed the hilt of her cutlass into his face. He stumbled away gasping, his own nose broken in return. Morgan retrieved her second cutlass with some difficulty from beneath the books, and raised both swords now to finish him. But it'd been a mistake to give Derrick time to recover, and he tackled her hard into the wall. The effort didn't avail him much, though, as she slammed a hilt onto his back, dropping him to the floor. He saw the tip of a sharp sword hover over him and prepared for the end.
#
"If we revived you, why are you trying to kill us?" Rose demanded as she dodged a fireball the size of a cow. The man-dragon had taken to the air to shower her with spells, leaving her hard-pressed to attack him.
Simply so that I and my ilk shall be the only spellcasting creatures left in the world, and rule supreme. In centuries past, we were persecuted simply for existing, and I sealed myself away so that in a later age, when magic was at its nadir, I could return with it and take my rightful place as its undisputed master. The book you discovered, I left to revive me with the strength of any who used its magic. So your attempts to master magic have fed me, and brought me back to awareness.
Rose rolled away from a rain of flaming boulders pulled from the earth and grimaced as she was forced to block the last one with her shield, which knocked her down and sent pain shooting through her arm. The creature wasn't making this easy. "So that's why Finn gets tired so fast. I thought something was amiss. Let me guess, you made the spells in the book only usable by one person at a time so you wouldn't have too many people to hunt down and kill, right?" The appreciative look on its face told her she was right. "But one thing confuses me. Your ilk? You mean dragons?"
No. I was a master of the arcane arts, one of the greatest of my time, the greatest of times. But while I sought the true understanding which comes with becoming a dragon, I did not want to undergo the transformation, for dragons cannot reproduce. So I slowed the change with special magic until it
stopped completely, leaving me in a form with the magical prowess of a dragon but still able to procreate with humans. I fathered many children, whose potential surpassed that of any human. But my jealous former peers declared me an abomination and made war against me, slaughtering all my offspring!
I knew I could not defeat them, even with my unmatched might, alone. So I allowed them to think me dead by imbuing that book with all my magic, leaving myself in an inert state. The gem I set to become active when magic dwindled to near extinction, and when the book was opened, my magic would return to me. But I knew I would still be weak in body, so I put a hidden component in each spell I recorded, which would suck some of the strength from its caster and send it to me. So every spell your friend cast fed me with his own life. Now, all I need to complete my rebirth and final victory, is the book—and your deaths.
Rose sensed it was enjoying its speech to her, natural considering how long it must have been since it got a chance to converse. But that didn't mean it had any qualms about killing her and her love. She hear it began the chant for another spell, and wondered how long she could keep dodging.
Then, in the moment before the man-dragon finished its chant, she made a choice. The lightning lanced out a split-second after she threw her blade, with already immense strength driven to new heights by desperation. The tremendous bolt hit her sword just as the weapon pierced the man-dragon's belly, and lightning shot in all directions as the thing plummeted transfixed to the ground.
#
Morgan raised her blade over Derrick's heart, and for a terrifying instant he believed he was about to die. In desperation, he grabbed a book and threw it into her face. The corner of the hard cover struck her in the eye, momentarily blinding her, and gave her no chance to avoid the stray lightning bolt which flew in through the window.