by Tom Rogal
Haldirin ordered, “I can’t let you do that! If you’re wrong, we could all die!”
Lindaris asked, “What is she planning to do?”
“A spell called the Angel’s Gavel. It might save him, but will disable our use of magic for a few hours,” Haldirin explained.
Lindaris commented, “Whoa! Okay, we can’t do that with the Garchai out there. No way!”
Condarin yelled with a conviction none of the students had seen before, “I will not just sit here and let him die! You said yourself you’re not sure it hit his heart. Please! I need you!”
The room was silent as Neeza began to breathe heavier. In the distance, the sound of stone crashing down on the ground and the rumble of feet could be heard. Damn, the Garchai were coming and they hadn’t even begun to try and save Neeza.
Biverin finally said, “I’ll keep the Garchai at bay. You and the rest work on him.”
Haldirin walked up to the farmer mage and said, “You can’t. Not in your condition. Don’t think I don’t know about it.”
“You stop worrying about my condition. I won’t let you down. The Garchai will not get past me.”
Condarin wanted to stop him, but she knew someone had to do what he was doing otherwise the Garchai would be upon them before they finished.
Lindaris walked to him and said, “I know we have had our rough edges on this adventure, but one thing I can never question is your courage. Let those pieces of Midenbeast fodder know who they are messing with.”
Biverin smiled and said, “You know I will.”
Everyone sat down next to Condarin. Before Dyenarus did, she walked over to Biverin and placed her hand on his shoulder.
She finally said, “This is not goodbye. Once we save Neeza, I will come back for you. You got that?”
Biverin smiled, and said, “Okay. Go on ahead. Neeza needs you all.”
She nodded and sat down next to the others. Biverin walked out of the hallway and grabbed his bag of seeds. Using a wind spell, he blew the seeds out everywhere in the room, even around the doorway where the rest of his party sat. The Garchai were getting closer.
“Okay, Biverin, my boy. You can do this. Those Garchai bastards are going to rue the day they messed with us.”
Images of his wife and children popped in his head . . . well, child and soon-to-be child. Oh, how much he wanted to see them again. He knew, though, that even if he survived the mountain, he wouldn’t be coming home alive. All he could think about standing alone and about to encounter their enemy was to make his son and daughter proud. That was the real reason he wouldn’t let them get to Neeza and his friends.
In the room, Condarin began the spell. Neeza’s breathing was getting shallower. Time was running out. Reaching what mages called the craterta, or the first part of the incantation, her body began to glow a bright white light. The others were slowly engulfed by it as well. Condarin placed her hands on the wound waiting for it to work.
The first Garchai turned the corner as Biverin chanted a silent spell. He made a few of the seeds grow into vines and they grabbed the Garchai’s arms and legs. He did the same for the second one that came. Every time he did it he could feel the pain in his side as the blood continued to drip. He hoped they would hurry. He was going to give it everything he had to stop them, but he only had so long.
A purplish light began to emit from her hands as the group began to feel disoriented. Haldirin knew this was the part of the spell where Condarin was absorbing their powers. It felt like a pulsing headache, but thankfully didn’t last very long. The spell was almost done. And when it was, they had to hope that it would be enough to save him.
Biverin was having his hands full with the Garchai. The ones entering the room saw what was happening to their kin and were either freeing them or doing their best to avoid his vines. He took a quick look back. They were almost finished. Good. When they were, he knew what to do. He had about seven Garchai captured in his vines, five of which he felt confident would stay there for a while. That was when Zondiir entered. At that moment, Biverin knew which of those damned creatures he had to focus on. That was the one he had to stop.
He unleashed as many vines as he could at Zondiir. All these wrapped around the arms and legs tightly. After struggling initially, he ripped the vines easily off the walls and floor that bound him. Yep, this guy was going to be a challenge. He shot more vines toward Zondiir, but once again, after initially struggling, he broke through with no trouble. He knew what was happening. He was breaking free because he wasn’t holding it. The more he held it, the more his side would bleed.
He took a quick glance at his friends. Condarin was nearing completion of the spell. He promised he wouldn’t let them down, let his family down. He had never broken a promise before and he didn’t intend to start. Using every seed he could find in front of him he made the vines wrap around Zondiir’s arms, legs, neck and torso. He could feel every struggle as he held the vines on him. This wasn’t going to be able to last forever. Go Condarin. I have faith in you.
Condarin said the last lines of the incantation as the white light in her hands illuminated brightly. Neeza winced in pain as the once damaging wound began to mend in front of their eyes. Never had any of them seen a wound heal so fast. Even under these circumstances, it was quite amazing. When the wound was healed, the spell negated, and the room went dark again. Now came the moment of truth.
Haldirin went over to his boss and asked, “Neeza? Neeza, how are you feeling?”
After a short silence, a voice finally exited his lips, “Like a million Magari. A little weak, but other than that, quite good. Thank you, Condarin. That was a quite a reckless risk for one so young, but I’m glad you took it.”
Haldirin smiled and said, “Lay down. You lost a lot of blood and need to replenish. Take a few moments.”
There were no complaints from Neeza. Dyenarus, seeing he was okay and breathing a sigh of relief, ran over to the doorway. Biverin was holding Zondiir with the vines, but was obviously struggling. She could see the fresh puddle of blood that formed at his feet. She couldn’t see his face, but his arms were already going pale.
Dyenarus yelled, “Biverin! Come on! Neeza’s alive! He’s okay! We have to get out of here!”
Biverin gave a weak chuckle and said, “Glad to hear that. Now go. I can’t let go of him otherwise he’ll kill me then you guys. I am not going to let that happen.”
Haldirin yelled, “Come on, Biverin! We can get out of here.”
“You will, but not me. This is where my journey ends.”
Haldirin noticed the puddle of blood by his feet now. It was the same side that was punctured during the fall of the Kyroselip chase. Their worst fears were coming true. When he saw him struggling to run, he assumed he had broken a rib. That was sadly not the case. The wood did pierce him in his lung. It was forcing the magically repaired wound to reopen. That was something they’d have to watch with Neeza, but he was quite sure he would be okay. Biverin was doing a brave thing. He was going to give the ultimate sacrifice.
Condarin and the others all joined them and she yelled, “Come on, Biverin! Hurry! Why are you not coming?”
He wanted to say something to her, but knew it best he be silent. Condarin was a very emotional person, and he didn’t need her taking any more risks, especially now that none of them could cast magic for a short time. They needed to go and now.
Biverin instead turned to Haldirin and said, “Can you promise me something? Can you tell my wife and kids that their father says he’s sorry he won’t be coming home, but that my last thoughts were of them and their mother?”
Haldirin unleashed a tear as he replied, “Of course. They will know that their father died a hero.”
Condarin yelled, “Biverin! Don’t do this! We can still get out of here!”
Biverin replied, “Good luck all of you. Find the Relic and return home. I was very proud to see you all grow before my eyes. You will all make wonderful mages, and I was honored to call yo
u family for the days we were together. Be strong all of you. If you will forgive me, I don’t think you’ll want to see what happens next.”
Biverin made weeds grow in front of the doorway. Condarin was doing her best to try and break through them, but it was too late. He imbedded his will into those weeds, so it was going to take a lot of effort to break through it, even for the Garchai. And with none of them able to use magic for a short time, they couldn’t even magically burn through it. Condarin, realizing there was nothing that could be done, fell to her knees crying.
On the other side, Biverin looked at Zondiir and yelled, “I won’t leave here, but at least I can go with the peace of mind knowing you won’t kill my friends. Do what you will to me, but you will never get them. You have failed, Your Highness!”
Biverin finally let go of the vines as Zondiir broke through them easily. He was tangled slightly because there was so many, but once free, he grabbed his scepter and lifted it high.
Biverin spread his arms opened wide and lifted his head. Closing his eyes, he fully intended on fulfilling his promise. The last thing he remembered was sitting at the dock of Myyril’s capital with his wife, the son he never met, and his daughter watching the stars on a clear night, in peace.
14
The journey through the tunnels was quiet. Not a word had been said since they decided to continue moving forward. While Neeza rested, Haldirin was able to find a secret passage, which Gerran confirmed was on the correct path toward the Relic. When Neeza felt stable enough to walk, they kept going.
Everyone was silent because of the loss of Biverin. For some, he was the first person close to them to have died. No matter if it was their first or if they had seen numerous before, Biverin’s death hit them all hard. It hit Neeza the hardest, however. He had promised that he would send them all home. That was unfortunately not going to happen. Had he not been disoriented, he might have been able to help him. He was currently the only one of them who could still cast magic for the next few hours at least.
All the mages learned a valuable lesson: Life should be cherished because it can end at any time. For Biverin, he decided to give up his life for the lives of his company . . . no, his second family. For Neeza, there could be no better definition of a hero in his book than one who dies to protect the ones he cares about. When they returned to Myyril, he would be certain that Biverin's family were fairly compensated for their tragic loss.
As hard as his death was, they still had a mission to finish. Even one of Biverin’s last requests was to find the Relic. And based off its power, it felt like one should be able to touch it. The hallways were small enough that the Garchai couldn’t pursue, so they didn’t have to worry about them.
Neeza began to sweat the closer they got. He didn’t know why. He didn’t feel any ill effects from the spell. And the temperature of the cave was actually quite cool. Why was he feeling this? Maybe it was that intuition the Relic had given him before; talking to him, leading him, directing him on what needed to happen. Yeah, that was it. It must be making him hotter because they were so close. One thing he knew was that he had to keep this to himself. They would never understand.
Gerran finally broke the silence, “We are very close. The great power it radiates is beaming through here. I can’t believe how strong it is.”
Believe it, my friend. You can’t even begin to comprehend its power. He could. It entrusted him to be the bearer. The elves proved to be unreliable enough to be the deliverer of its might. But he was different. It trusted him and him alone. If the others tried to stop him, they would find it to be a mistake.
Neeza had to shake his head. Why was he beginning to think these things? It was getting worse, too. He first felt it vaguely on the boat as they neared the Simorgon Chain and now that they were so close, he was feeling it more frequently. Was the Relic really doing this to him?
Dyenarus suddenly said, “Someone’s coming.”
“I feel it, too,” added Gerran.
The mages grabbed their staves, ready to pounce on whoever was trying to make their way toward them. They couldn’t cast magic for the time being, but at least they didn’t lose their telekinetic senses. Neeza almost joked that his party was reduced to his daughter’s level, and she would have been the most powerful of them all then. The footsteps were getting closer and closer.
Lindaris commented, “Man, you don’t realize how much you rely on magic until you lose it.”
For students of the Black Magic School, that was a very true statement. Their ‘fire first, ask later’ policy meant that he was probably the one of their group missing it the most, but he was sure they were all feeling the same.
Dyenarus commented, “Don’t be a baby. Women lose their magic power temporarily every time they give birth. Why do you think it’s so easy for the Kittara to take the children of parents having a half-mage baby? Mothers would do anything to protect their children.”
Haldirin was surprised she used that as an example, given her situation. Thankfully no one tried to inquire further. The stranger slowly making his way toward them likely helped halt any further questions. Maybe she was much smarter than he realized.
The figure’s shadow could be seen on the wall. It seemed to be dragging a foot based on its movements. Haldirin and the two girls had seen way too much of that before reuniting with Neeza. They, thankfully, never met up with the creature that made those footprints. It looked like they were now, but this time they didn’t have the magic to defend themselves with.
Neeza said, “Everyone stay behind me. I’ll take care of whatever is down that hall.”
The figure was just about to emerge as Neeza jumped out. As soon as he did, he negated his spell. By the gods, he was alive!
“Mimerck!”
The mage captain responded, “Can’t we ever meet without you guys pointing some spell at me?”
The mages were relieved to see the seafarer, if not only for the reason that he was their ticket home. No one knew how to sail a ship, and the only safe refuge, if one could call it that, was way to the south and east in the elf territories.
Neeza asked, “Glad to see you are all right. What happened when you separated from us?”
Mimerck stared blankly at Neeza, “What happened when our paths diverted?”
His mind began to think back as he pondered about how to explain it . . .
The acid flew through the air as the Spitters were hell bent on destroying their target. Mimerck raised his stone shield. He was able to duck under or block most of them, but one landed on his wrist and a drop landed on his cheek from the splash of it hitting his shield. He had never felt pain like he did with that acid. He could smell his own skin burning. He splashed his cheek with a water spell, which soothed the pain a little, but not entirely.
Hitting these things with a spell wouldn’t help either. Killing one would set up a domino effect, causing each to explode. Unlike the first time, there were even less places for him to hide in this room. Entering the gold room wasn’t a good idea either with the Twin Dragons still in there, freshly awoken from a long slumber. The Spitters prepared to fire another volley when they suddenly froze and looked to their right. He looked there too, but saw nothing. The Spitters quickly scattered, running over each other in an attempt to make a quick getaway. Were they . . . afraid? Of what? There was nothing there.
“You have come for great riches.”
Mimerck asked, “Who is there?”
Was he just imagining it? Who else here had proven enough to speak the common tongue other than the dragons? He knew that would have been enough to scare the Spitters, but they said they never left their room because it was dangerous.
“You won’t find them in there.”
“Then where? Where are these great riches?” asked Mimerck as his question echoed in the room.
He almost felt silly. He had to have been just talking to himself. Maybe the Spitters were just his imagination as well. He touched his cheek, and it stung horribly. Oka
y, they were real. This voice, though, had to be his imagination.
“The Relic is the greatest treasure. The wealth you will gain from it would know no bounds. I will show you the way.”
Mimerck looked as excited as back when he was in school, “Yes, show me the way! The Relic is the real prize!”
Mimerck didn’t feel like normal. Something suddenly changed. Why did he out of the blue want the Relic? No, not just want it . . . desire it. He wanted gold more. Who would want to buy something that is priceless?
A door made of stone opened up to his left as he walked toward it.
“Follow this path. When you return to your ship, bring it to the city of Canta. Someone willing to pay handsomely will be there.”
Good idea! He had never heard of Canta, but oddly he knew exactly where it was. No one was going to take away his riches from him. No one! He began to walk with a limp because he knelt down in the acid accidentally. The pain didn’t bother him. He was about to go find that which has never been found.
He scurried as fast as he could down the hall.
. . . No, he couldn’t tell them that. There had to be a better way to say it. That’s it! He got it!
Mimerck answered, “I . . . escaped, escaped barely with my life.”
The delay it took him to answer was quite odd, but at what point since meeting him did he think the mage captain to be normal?
Neeza answered, “We’re glad we ran into you. The Relic is really close.”
“I know it is. I just came from it.”
Everyone looked at Mimerck strangely or shocked. Neeza was the only excited one.
Neeza asked, “Where is it? Is it far?”
Mimerck said, “Not at all. Follow me. I would have grabbed it, but it is far too heavy for one man to carry. Come quickly! We should be out of here before nightfall.”
The mages began to follow with exception to Vindar, Condarin, and Dyenarus, who walked toward the back. The White Mage was beginning to read her quite well now since they had been on the mountain.