The Sorcerer's Return (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Brock Deskins

  “I suppose so. I am surprised to find you still living here in the castle. I guess Jarvin was not too upset you failed to bring back Dundalor’s armor?”

  Maude smirked. “To be honest, I think most everyone simply forgot about us or didn’t care enough to ask us to leave.”

  “I heard you were instrumental in ending the undead scourge.”

  “We had a lot of help. Since then, we really haven’t done much. There just aren’t many undiscovered tombs and treasures anymore, if there ever were. I feel kind of foolish for believing all those stories my grandfather told me and for devoting my whole life to myth and folklore.”

  “You found a fabled artifact, destroyed a lich, live in the King’s castle, and probably saw more of the world than almost anyone you’ll meet. It sounds to me like you found enough adventure to kill a hundred lesser men.”

  Maude mentally tallied up all the adventures and near-disastrous situations they had been in over the past several years. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. All this comfortable living made me forget how much we really went through.”

  Azerick’s voice took on a more serious tone. “I am afraid you, and the rest of us, will be going through much more soon.”

  Before she could ask the sorcerer to clarify, Malek came hopping through an open door as he pulled on his boot and began stuffing his shirttails into his trousers.

  “Oh, Maude, there you are. Someone said you were looking for us. I just had to finish off some, uh…”

  The handsome cleric’s excuse was cut short by a woman’s voice. “Hurry back, Malek. I think I still have some sins in need of absolving.”

  Malek blushed. “Right, never mind. So what did you need?”

  “Azerick asked for us. Have you seen Borik?”

  “I think I saw him headed toward the kitchens.” Malek studied Azerick for a moment. “Oh, right, you’re the one who helped us find Dundalor’s armor then destroyed it. So what did you need us for?”

  “It is rather complicated, and I would prefer explaining when we are all together. I have already had to repeat it more than I like.”

  “Fair enough,” Malek replied. “I suppose you are why there are so many nobles and such buzzing around like angry hornets.”

  “I have certainly kicked the nest a bit.”

  Maude led the way to the kitchen nearest their living quarters. None of them were much for small talk, so they walked largely in silence. Maude was not the curious type, and Malek felt oddly uncomfortable around the sorcerer. The priest wrote it off as having to do with his unexpected return from the dead.

  Their rooms were not far from the kitchen, mostly upon Borik’s insistence, and it was only a couple minutes later they ran into the dwarf just as he was exiting. In his arms was a loaf of bread the length of Maude’s sword, stuffed to overflowing with meat and cheese. He stopped short upon seeing Maude approach and smiled widely when he recognized Azerick.

  “Ice beer man! Let me find a mug!”

  “We don’t have time for that, Borik,” Maude snapped. “What are you carrying?”

  “Food. Every time you ask us to come to you, you have some moronic adventure in mind that is either a huge waste of time or nearly kills us, and I ain’t doin’ either one on an empty stomach!”

  “Your stomach hasn’t been empty from the day your mother squeezed you out and left you for dead on a cave floor! I thought you liked adventuring?”

  “I like squashing a few goblins or skeletons and filling my pockets with treasure. You always drag us into vampires and liches and a whole bunch of stuff that kills us and don’t make us a single copper!”

  “If we were dead, you wouldn’t be complaining so much, and I wouldn’t be hearing it all the time,” Maude countered.

  Borik pointed his sandwich at Malek. “You killed the priest! It was just dumb luck he got better.” He turned to Azerick. “I heard you got killed too. I guess you can’t keep nobody in the ground these days.”

  “Malek was killed?” Azerick asked.

  “Yep, by a lich. He was deader than dead.”

  “Actually, I was able to shift my soul into my holy symbol and Solarian was able to move it back into my body,” Malek explained. “I can’t describe the feeling of having my god so close to me like that. Were you touched by one of the gods as well?”

  Azerick nodded. “I was.”

  “What was it like?”

  “Painful. Sharellan knocked me all the way through the Fifth Circle of the abyss from her throne room.”

  “You got struck by a god and lived?” Malek asked.

  “To be fair, I hit her first. I prefer not to talk to about it, and I really need to find Tarth.”

  Borik scoffed. “What for?”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “Good luck. Talking to him is like talking to a chicken…with brain damage…and born simpleminded.”

  “Nevertheless, it is important.”

  “Fine, but I’m taking my sandwich.”

  Maude looked crossly at Borik. “Borik, that thing is ridiculous.”

  Borik looked at his sandwich and sighed. “You’re right. There’s no way I can hold a beer and eat this at the same time. It’s a good thing I’m not thirsty right now.”

  Maude gave up and stalked into the kitchen. “Tarth has been spending a lot of time in a meadow inside the park. We can reach it fastest by cutting through here.”

  Maude led Azerick and her oddball crew through the kitchen and onto the palace grounds. After passing through a small gate set in a low garden wall, Azerick found himself at edge of an enormous park of manicured lawns, bushes, and flowers. The sculpted grounds stretched for acres until it reached the edge of a forest of maple and fruit trees.

  It took several minutes to cross the perfectly cut grass and step into the rows of trees. The orchard opened up a few hundred yards in to display an enchanting meadow. Next to a small pond, Tarth sat looking at his reflection in the water and braiding small, blue wildflowers into his long, black hair.

  “Tarth, look who’s come to visit,” Maude called out as they stepped into the glen.

  Tarth looked up and all the color drained from his face. Azerick had never seen fear so profound in his life. The elf leapt to his feet and pointed a shaking finger at Azerick.

  “I see you, demon!” Tarth shouted and began a horrific keening.

  Black clouds rolled across the previously clear blue sky with the sound of an avalanche. Powerful winds tore through the glade, stripping leaves from the trees and setting the placid pond roiling. Azerick barely had enough time to erect a ward as he saw Tarth pull an awesome amount of power into his thin body and hurl it directly at him.

  The force bolt struck harder than anything Azerick had felt before with the exception of the one with which had Sharellan hit him. The power of it shoved him back and his feet plowed deep furrows in the soft soil as he braced himself against it. Again and again Tarth struck at him, driving him farther away with each hit.

  Lightning flashed across the sky and began striking the ground all around him, splitting trees and setting them on fire. Tarth continued to howl his shrill cry as the ground began trembling and then heaving upward. The quaking earth and stone split apart, opening deep chasms that swallowed the pond and nearby trees like a sea of hungry mouths.

  Maude and the others leapt about, desperately trying to avoid falling into the fissures while barely able to stand against the awful shaking. Lightning cracked against Azerick’s ward with the rhythm of a hail storm while Tarth continued to batter against it. Azerick knew there was little time before he would have to do something, but he was unsure of what. Tarth’s attack was relentless and nearly as powerful as anything Azerick could unleash without losing control of Klaraxis.

  Azerick looked upon the searing aura surrounding the elf and saw he was unconcerned with control. Tarth’s terror at seeing Azerick washed away any regard for himself or his friends as he pulled in more power than could possibly be safe.

&nb
sp; “Cleric!” Azerick shouted desperately. “You have to do something before he destroys us all!” What did you do to him, demon?

  I just played with him, Klaraxis replied laughingly.

  Malek looked at Tarth standing on a small island surrounded by a bottomless chasm. He waved to Borik to get his attention, made a running motion with his fingers, and pointed at Tarth. Borik looked at the fifteen or twenty feet of open air between him and Tarth, pointed at his chest, and incredulously wagged his head.

  Malek shook his head and pointed at himself. Borik smiled and nodded vigorously, knelt down on one knee, and slapped his shoulder. Malek got his feet under him and broke into a sprint. When he reached Borik, he planted one foot onto the dwarf’s shoulder as Borik heaved upward at the same instant. The stubby but powerful legs launched Malek into the air and over the chasm.

  The priest landed just behind Tarth and nearly rolled off the far end. Digging his fingers into the dirt, he stopped himself from going over, sprang to his feet, and slapped a hand over the top of Tarth’s head. His amulet glowed on his chest as he beseeched Solarian to instill peace in the heart and mind of his friend. Malek eased the elf to the ground as he crumpled almost instantly. The ground went still, the lightning stopped, and the roiling black clouds calmed and cast a grey pall over the land.

  Maude got to her feet and staggered toward Malek and Tarth. “Malek, what’s wrong with Tarth?” she cried out.

  “Maude, Borik, watch him!” Malek shouted as he kept a hand pressed firmly to Tarth’s forehead. “He is not what he seems! I see what Tarth saw, creature! Take one step and I will let him up even if it means he destroys us!”

  Maude did not understand what Malek was saying, but she trusted her fellows and drew her sword, pointing it at Azerick. Borik pulled a hand axe from his belt and circled warily around to Azerick’s left side.

  Azerick did not try to stand. He sat on his knees with his hands held out before him. Malek knelt next to Tarth with one hand still on the elf’s head and his holy symbol outstretched in the other.

  “Please stay calm and let me explain,” Azerick said. “When I destroyed the armor, I thought I could finally live in peace, but I was wrong. An assassin came for me, the same one I am certain murdered my father. I went searching for whoever sent him and it took me to the Black Tower in Sumara. I was beaten and taken captive. A wizard sought to use my body as a vessel for the demon lord Klaraxis. He failed to force out my spirit and I remained in control, but with him as a parasite.”

  Hey! This is my body. You are the parasite.

  Azerick ignored him. “When I died, our two souls were so entwined I was taken into Klaraxis’ body along with him but was still able to keep control. Tarth’s grandmother was a Guardian, a creature created by the elves during the Great Revolution to battle the old gods, and she pulled me from the abyss. The old gods are returning and Tarth is the only elf I know. I need him to tell the elves the Scions are returning. We will all have to fight together or the Scions will destroy us.”

  Maude looked to Malek. “Is what he says possible?”

  “I don’t know. Demonology is not my area of expertise.”

  Borik grumbled, “Yeah, if only he had been possessed by a prostitute.”

  Malek ignored him. “It does sound plausible, though. As far as these old gods or Scions go, I have never heard of them.”

  “Few if anyone amongst the humans remembers them. Even the dwarves have forgotten, but I am counting on Tarth, or at least his people, to still remember.” Azerick looked at Tarth lying peacefully on the ruined ground. “Can you wake him now?”

  “His spirit is still in turmoil. It is likely he will attack you again if I do,” Malek answered.

  “Can you do something similar to me and send me to him?”

  “If you cooperate I can, but Tarth could attack you inside his mind, and he could be even more powerful there. Given his mental state, I cannot even guess as to what you will find inside that head of his.”

  “I have to take the risk. Tarth is probably the most important piece in the defense of our realm and continued existence.”

  Malek hated the idea of letting this creature near Tarth, but if what he said was true then Tarth and the elves were going to be desperately needed. “All right, but if I sense you are going to harm Tarth, I will pull you out and do whatever is in my power to protect him and everyone else.”

  “Fair enough. What must I do?”

  “Lay down next to Tarth.”

  Azerick stood and, channeling a measure of the Source, erected a bridge of stone. He stepped across the void separating him and the island upon which Tarth and the cleric resided and laid down opposite of Tarth’s recumbent form.

  “Just relax and let your mind go on the trip. It is merely your consciousness I am moving into Tarth, not your soul. It will be like a shared dream, only more real.”

  Azerick nodded and Malek laid his palm on the sorcerer’s brow. The cleric began chanting softly and Azerick felt a relaxing warmth spread through his body. He felt himself floating a moment before darkness overtook him. He knew the elf was out of sorts in the best of times and had no idea what to expect inside his mind in such an agitated state. Azerick spotted a flickering light and willed his body toward it. What he discovered upon reaching the light surprised him.

  He stood near the far wall of a quaint bedroom. The walls of the room were made of what looked to be live tree limbs grown so close together they sealed the room from any draft or rain. It was like being on the inside of an enormous, closed tulip. Tarth sat at a small desk brushing his hair. Flickering candles framed his reflected image in a halo of yellow light. An elfin woman of impossible beauty sat on the bed near the center of the room.

  “Tarthanalis, I swear you are the vainest creature I ever met,” the woman said yet smiled lovingly at the back of Tarth’s head.

  Tarth returned her smile in his mirror. “It is not vanity, Lahilonah. It calms me. My foster mother used to brush my hair every night to help put me to sleep.”

  “It worries you,” Lahilonah said, her smile slipping.

  “It is a foolish thing to attempt, but the people have chosen and I will not deny them. I am certain they would try even without my help, and that would guarantee disaster. At least I can give them a chance.”

  “You are the most brilliant elf I have ever known. You will not fail.”

  “I wish I was as certain as you,” Tarth replied as he set down his brush and stood with obvious reluctance.

  Lahilonah stood with him and crossed to his side. Plucking a small, blue wild flower from her long, golden hair, she deftly wove it into Tarth’s ebony locks. “Here, for luck.”

  Tarth embraced Lahilonah and kissed her passionately. “I wish I could stay in this room with you forever.”

  “That would be incredibly boring, and I rather enjoy our walks in the Grove of Heroes. Our people await their savior. Now go.”

  Tarth kissed her once more and left the room. Azerick suddenly found himself overlooking a large plaza. Unknown sigils inscribed in silver, or possibly arcanum, decorated the polished stones of the courtyard. Elves, wizards given the look of them, surrounded a large circular area near the center. Tarth took his place upon a raised plinth and stood behind a pedestal. Azerick gasped as he recognized the object open before Tarth. It was the Codex Arcana.

  Tarth looked at each of the score of mages forming the circle. “Are you still certain you wish to attempt this?”

  An elf wearing the robes of an elder spoke. “We must, Tarthanalis. The humans continue to expand and we must protect our way of life from their encroachment.” He looked pointedly at the Codex. “Even if they do not expand this far north, they or someone else will eventually learn of your possessing the Codex and seek it for themselves. The Humans’ Academy of wizards in particular would stop at nothing to claim it, and we dare not let such power get into their hands. They are a rash and irresponsible people, and the damage they could inflict if they had the Codex
is too great. This is our only option.”

  Tarth inclined his head once. “As you wish. Let us begin.”

  Tarth began chanting in elvish, and soon the assembled wizards took up the songlike incantation as well. The runes within the circle glowed until they became too intense to look upon. The blue sky of midmorning went dark and the stars began shining down. Then the stars began to blur and the black sky turned grey and dull as the tiny elven nation began to phase out of its home dimension.

  The ground started to tremble. Several wizards, as well as those in the crowd watching the spectacle from the edges of the plaza, looked concerned. Tarth stood locked in concentration, but nodded to signal that the event was not unexpected. The ritual went on until one of the sigils flared up and left a black imprint in the stones. Tarth now looked worried.

  Azerick shifted his vision to capture the astral energies of the wizards and the incredibly powerful spell they were enacting. All of the wizards’ auras glowed with power equal to any mage he had ever met, rivaling and even surpassing Allister and Aggie. Tarth’s level of power vastly exceeded even those, but he was quickly losing control of the incredible forces at work.

  “We are losing it!” Tarth shouted over the crackling energy and nervous conversations of the gathered elves. “We have to shut it down!”

  But still the power of the spell continued to build and more silver runes flared and turned black. Cracks began forming in the polished stones of the courtyard and a small tear opened in the air.

  “Tarth, we are losing control!” an elder wizard shouted. “What is happening?”

  Although Tarth spoke only in a whisper, Azerick was able to hear him clearly. “Something has taken control from the other side.”

  The rift between dimensions tore open at that moment and began disgorging demons into the crowd of elves. Pandemonium erupted as the demons tore into the defenseless bystanders. Lesser mages, not tasked with controlling the spell, leapt to defend their people and began beating back the demonic minions, but the rift continued to grow and more demons leapt forth.