by Jeff Inlo
Ryson knew he couldn't follow. He didn't have the magical ability to sense the trail of such an incantation, and he couldn't cast a teleportation spell of his own even if he knew where Neltus had gone. As far as the rotund wizard was concerned, all the delver could do was curse at the fading remnants of the magic which had whisked the wizard beyond his reach.
Disregarding the crimson spell caster, Ryson raced about the edges of the giant mound of fiercely compacted sand left behind by Neltus' previous assault. The wave of magic had fallen swiftly and brutally upon Jure and Holli. They had not been swept away, but rather buried alive.
As he desperately searched for signs of his companions, Ryson realized the huge surge of sand had also buried the dark blue form of the doppelganger. Clearly, Neltus had no concern for the demon during his attack, but that offered little consolation. The delver was only worried about his friends, and he knew the enormous mound was quickly becoming a tomb for Jure and Holli.
He looked feverishly for any signs he could see or hear; a slight scratching, a muffled cry, or even a minor shift in the sand just below the surface. To his growing dismay, there was nothing. The sheer pressure of Neltus' spell compressed the mound into a hard, crusty substance. It would take a miracle for him to find either of his companions, let alone both. He hoped that one of them might still be conscious and capable of utilizing a powerful spell to break free, but the ground remained deathly still.
Ryson gave one last glance to the dathit, as the pit demon continued its trek to the west. Ryson could follow the monster easily, use his speed to keep up with the giant's massive stride, but that would mean leaving Holli and Jure buried in the sand. While he knew he could not chase after Neltus, he still had to choose between two friends trapped below the desert surface and one in the grip of a faceless colossus.
Without much further thought, he placed his full attention upon finding Holli and Jure. As much as he wanted to save Enin, he realized a pit demon was a foe beyond his abilities. Even if he followed the dathit, any assault he could muster would be as effective as throwing pebbles into the sea. Staying where he was came down to an honest assessment of what he could achieve versus wallowing in indecision and hopelessness.
He pulled both war blades from their sheaths and frantically but systematically began to chip away at the compacted sand. Granules flew up in the air and stung the delver in the face. He ignored the pain as he looked desperately for signs in the hard sand which might indicate a trace of his friends. He searched for air pockets or slight alterations in the crusty residue. To his growing dismay, he found nothing which might indicate the presence of an obstruction or a diversion to the wave which had come crashing down upon his companions.
After digging furiously, he realized time was becoming an issue. He wouldn't tire easily, but Jure and Holli would soon run out of air, if they hadn't already been smothered to death by the sheer volume of sand which surrounded them.
He allowed himself one brief glance to the south. The sandstone sanctuary of the algors remained eerily silent. He could catch their scent drifting out of the caves, but he noticed no sign of any activity. The algors revealed no desire to inspect the wild occurrences outside their safe haven.
He wondered if he should go to them, attempt to retrieve an army of algors capable of excavating the area with their sharp claws. They worked together with extraordinary precision, as if guided by the same mind. He had seen them dig in the sand before and recalled their efficiency. With a sufficient number, Ryson believed they could clear much of the newly compacted sand in moments.
There were usually thousands of algors deep within the caves, and if he could convince one to offer assistance, he could convince them all. They would descend upon the desert like an army of giant ants. Despite his own speed, he could never match that kind of effort. If he was going to save his friends, he would need the algors' help.
Just before he raced off to the sandstone cliffs, assistance arrived... but not in a form he expected. Ryson immediately noticed a shimmering break in reality, another magical bending of space, but this one was not red.
It was the shadow of a hole, a dark mass of distortion, but not quite a portal. He peered into the gap and saw what he believed were the flatlands of the central plains; an area of vast farmlands which separated the foothills of the Colad Mountains from the Great Valleys to the east.
He only obtained a quick glance of the opposing lands, for his view was quickly blocked by a woman of tiny stature; clearly a human but only slightly taller than a dwarf and substantially thinner. She stepped carefully through the opening, and as she came into the desert, the dark mass of distortion dissolved behind her.
"You are in need of aid, Ryson Acumen?" the woman asked.
Her offer of potential assistance surprised the delver. Rather than question the woman's appearance, he started to blurt out an explanation of his circumstances.
"Yes... my friends... they're trapped. I was..."
"I'm aware of what has happened. Please stand clear of the sand which has covered your companions."
Still shocked by the appearance of the small woman, Ryson did as he was asked without questioning the newcomer further. He raced over to her side and watched carefully as the stranger went to work.
Pressing the palms of her hands together, the woman revealed her power. A circle of absolute black energy formed around her wrists. The magic pulsed like that of a heart beating within a human's chest, and the shadow of the energy darkened the woman's face. Even in the growing obscurity of night, Ryson could see the stranger's hazel eyes turn black.
The woman spoke softly, almost meekly. She whispered simple words and released her spell.
"Free and clear," the spell caster murmured.
The ebony magic rose off her hands and up into the night air. Despite the growing desert darkness, the inky blackness of the sorceress' magic remained impressively visible. As it halted directly over the mound, all movement ceased. It did not rotate or even swirl in the slightest degree. It hung in the sky like a wide ring of black metal, stiff and still. The sand below it, however, churned in upheaval.
The compacted surface of the Lacobian broke apart and rushed up into the desert sky. It was pulled through the center of the black ring and then pushed away, thrown higher in the air to return to the ground beyond nearby dunes. When all of the sand Neltus had used to bury his foes was removed, the ebony circle dissolved into the night air.
Ryson saw Holli and Jure freed from the sand but motionless on the desert ground. He could see both were breathing but neither was conscious.
"Do not go to them just yet," the petite sorceress advised. "It's best if they are not moved. They will both need healing, but that's not one of my stronger skills. I could try if there were no other alternatives, but there are algors nearby, and they are better suited for that kind of magic."
Ryson's focus remained solely on the welfare of his companions. He knew of the algors' healing abilities, and he agreed it would be the best option.
"I'll get them."
"There's no need to leave this spot," the woman counseled. "Call to them from here and I'll make sure your request reaches them. Whether they help or not will be up to their understanding of the situation, so make sure they know it's you who calls."
Ryson wasn't sure how to react to the claim, but he didn't wish to waste time arguing. He turned to the cliffs and spoke in a clear and resolute voice.
"This is Ryson Acumen. My friends are hurt and need healing. Please send whatever help you can."
Just as Ryson finished his last words, the sorceress cast a second spell. Another black ring appeared, one which rotated about the fingers of her left hand. She cast it out toward the sandstone cliffs in the distance.
The delver watched as the circle of ebony magic flew toward the algor sanctuary. Yet again, he could see the defined ring even as it moved through the night air. Its blackness remained so complete that it appeared like a hole in reality.
When the magic hit the stone wall, Ryson heard his own voice. The very words he had just spoken were repeated and echoed through the caves deep in the sandstone cliffs.
"Will they come?" Ryson asked of the spell caster.
"You would know better than I," the woman confessed.
Ryson watched the cave openings intensely, and within moments, over two dozen algors filed out of the tunnel chambers. With amazing precision, they began to descend the cliff wall in unison, their motions melding together as if performing some well-timed dance. When they reached the desert floor, they moved together towards Holli and Jure.
"Looks like they're going to help," the woman stated. "With so many algors, there's nothing to worry about now. Your companions will be fine."
With help for his friends on the way, Ryson turned his attention to the sudden and unexplained arrival of his unknown benefactor.
"Who are you?" Ryson finally asked.
"Since I started casting spells, I've been using the name Vraya." She smiled slightly after revealing her magical title, as if it was a personal joke. Upon seeing the delver's furrowed brow, she explained her slight amusement. "It's not my original name, not the one I was given at birth. I'm not sure why we do that, change our names. It seems as if everyone who is able to cast spells decides to be called something new. I guess the magic changes us. And especially for me, it seems appropriate."
"Why is that?"
"Because my magic is based on the transition from one state of being to another. When the magic returned to Uton, I became different from what I was. It seemed reasonable to alter my identity in other ways as well."
As Ryson considered the concept of altering identities, he recalled the doppelganger. The presence of such an evil creature caused him immediate alarm. He looked about the desert floor, but saw only the two prone figures of his friends.
"There was a doppelganger here before," Ryson warned the sorceress. "It got buried with them, but I don't see it."
"The demon is not a concern at the moment."
"How can we be sure? What if it's pretending to be Jure or Holli?"
"Your senses would reveal that, wouldn't they?"
"I'm not sure if I'm close enough. It could be disguising itself better than it did before."
"I'm close enough, and as I said before, my magic is based on alteration. If one of your friends was not who they appeared to be, I would know. Believe me, I can sense a doppelganger as easily as you can smell a river rogue."
"But what happened to it?"
Vraya took only an instant to scan the desert.
"I can still sense the presence of the demon. It's nearby, but like the dathit, it has decided to retreat. The creature has already utilized its shape-shifting abilities. It has taken the form of a rock beetle and is tunneling away to escape."
"Should we capture it?"
Vraya did not hide her surprise at such a suggestion.
"You want to capture a doppelganger? What would we do with it?"
"Question it... we can find out what it knows."
"Do you really think it would answer our questions? And if it did, how could we believe whatever it said?"
The sorceress' reservations forced Ryson to consider Vraya's appearance and whether or not he should treat her with any more trust than he would allow a doppelganger. He offered a rather brusque but completely honest consideration of his own rising concerns.
"You're right. We couldn't trust it. And the same might go for you. I have no idea who you are or where you came from."
Vraya revealed little offense at the delver's admission.
"That's very true, but I really haven't asked for your trust, have I?"
"But you're answering my questions. I assume you want me to believe you. Everything you're telling me could be a lie."
"What do I gain with a lie? If I wanted to hurt you, I would have let your friends die."
"Some people help others for their own benefit, to get something they want."
"Have I asked for anything in return?"
"No," Ryson admitted.
"And as for motives, you help others all the time. Did you give that assistance with ulterior motives? And what about your friends? They've offered their aid freely as well. Did they do so in order to obtain something?"
"They helped because it was the right thing to do."
"And you won't give me the same consideration?"
"I don't know you."
"That's true, but I'm hoping you will come to know me. All I ask is that you give me a chance. I have nothing to hide. Look closely at me now. Do you sense anything of a demon in me?"
"You could be anything. You use ebony magic... and you cast in a circle. I've heard that's very rare, and I know it's very dangerous. I've only come across one other person who was able to do that."
"Ansas," Vraya revealed with a nod.
"That's right."
"And you think that since Ansas caused you nothing but grief that I'll probably do the same?"
"It wasn't just grief," Ryson responded almost indignantly. "He caused pain, a great deal of it."
"And you're going to base your opinion of me on your experience with Ansas?"
"You have to admit there are similarities."
Vraya shook her head with obvious disappointment, and then offered her own view of Ryson's bias.
"Enin once cast in two white circles. He used his magic selflessly and with a desire to help others, isn't that right?" the sorceress asked.
"Yes, but I don't see..."
"There was a slink ghoul named Baannat," Vraya continued before the delver could finish. "He also cast in two white circles, but the slink ghoul always had his own interests in mind. Were Enin and Baannat the same?"
"No," Ryson admitted.
"Then if you can't judge Enin based on what you knew of Baannat, don't judge me based on what you know of Ansas."
Ryson couldn't argue with the sorceress' logic, but he remained curious... and somewhat suspicious.
"I still don't know why you're here, or where you came from. And you seem to know certain things about me."
"You're becoming somewhat of a legend in Uton, but I won't lie to you. I've been watching you, especially lately."
"Watching me?"
"Yes, for quite some time actually. I've seen you accomplish some amazing things. More importantly, I've learned a great deal, not only about you, but about myself as well."
The admission surprised the delver and raised his suspicions even further. A dozen questions erupted in his mind. He wanted to know how she was able to watch him without him sensing her. He guessed she used sight spells, but he could not imagine how such spells would have gone unnoticed by his friends, spell casters with considerable magical powers of their own.
"How have you managed that?"
"Through the magic. I'd try to explain, but I know you're not comfortable talking about such things, especially ebony energy. But black magic is the essence of change, and you have to admit, you've had some experiences that have created rather important alterations in the land."
"Do you watch others?"
"No, not the way I've kept my attention on you. I do not like to divide my focus."
Ryson's concerns grew. He wondered from where she watched, and for how long she kept her attention upon him. He considered what she might have seen. He could not deny feeling somewhat violated and he almost erupted in anger. His curiosity, however, continued to overwhelm his resentment, and he revealed the most important question with one simple word.
"Why?"
"Because you are an intriguing individual."
"There are intriguing individuals all over Uton. Why focus on me?"
"As I said before, you've been at the heart of so many critical events."
"So have others. Enin, Holli, Jure; have you been watching them as well?"
"Only when they have been with you."
"Why am I so important to you? Have we met before?"
"No, we haven'
t."
"Then why would you show up like this, and why would you help me?"
Vraya found the constant questions somewhat unnerving. Normally when she revealed her impressive skills with ebony magic, people offered her a great deal of respect and even liberty. They didn't constantly question her motives, but then again, she had little experience with immensely curious individuals.
"You certainly are a delver."
"I think anyone would be curious about being watched... delver or not."
"Fair enough," Vraya allowed. "And I have been watching you closely, so I do owe you an explanation in that regard. Do you understand the basis of ebony magic?"
"I think so. I know it's rare... and powerful. "
"It is, and my essence is one of transition. The foundation of my magical core is built on the very concepts of absolute alteration."
"But what does that have to do with me... and why you've been watching me?"
"There have been, and continue to be, some extremely important events leading to a great transition in the land. I'm drawn to it. I sense the change. It's the basis of my magic. And let's be honest, the changes that have already occurred over the past season have been epic. Reiculf found a way to break through the boundaries of Demonspawn. Enin lost his power, as did Neltus. Neltus' loss wasn't as important at the time, but he has just regained his core, and that is important. That was an event I simply couldn't ignore. It brought me here... and here you are."
Before she could say more, the algors reached Holli and Jure. They split into two groups; one cluster surrounded the elf, the other group encircled the elder wizard. They gathered around in tight circles with some of the algors reaching past others in order to touch those they intended to restore. They gently placed their claws on the two prone bodies and began to pull healing magic directly from the night sky and the cooling sand.
The magic which flowed out of the algors cascaded around the two injured bodies. Healing energy rushed inward to cleanse every wound and mend every broken bone.
For each individual, the magic displayed stark differences in character. Vibrant green was clearly evident in the powerful currents which flowed into Holli. The emerald magic glowed brilliantly in the surrounding darkness. Not only did it remove her injuries, it replenished the elf guard's essence with the power of life that was not always easy to find in the harshness of the Lacobian.