Nature Mage

by Duncan Pile

  A lot of the residents wanted to stay in their homes, so the villagers were the ones who had been steadily moved into the college, which was now brim-full of strangers. Gaspi thought the city residents would have been happy to leave their homes to these visitors and move up into the college themselves if they understood what might be coming, or just how important the wall might end up being in any defence. The irony of it all was that there might not be an attack at all.

  Taurnil ran his hands along the length of his staff. “Do you always have to carry that with you?” Gaspi asked, thinking once more that his friend was being a bit overzealous.

  “Do you always carry your magic with you?” Taurnil asked.

  “Never mind,” Gaspi said, sensing the inevitability of a losing battle. “Sorry Taurn...I don’t mean to be tetchy. All this is just making me nervous, and you being battle-ready all the time doesn’t help.”

  “Better to be battle ready without a battle, than not ready when the battle comes,” Taurnil said.

  Gaspi couldn’t really argue with that. “Fair enough,” he said.

  They sat on the wall after the sun set, and into the first hour of darkness. Several groups of villagers were still lining up to enter the city, but after they were through the heavy gates would swing shut for the night, regardless of who came knocking. A long howl sounded faintly in the night. Gaspi sat up straight, his eyes scanning the darkness outside of the city walls. It was probably just a plains wolf, but something about the sound had sent a shiver down his spine. He could tell from Taurnil’s posture that he was alert, too.

  “Did you hear that?” Gaspi asked.

  “Yup,” Taurnil said, staring out into the night. They waited like that for a few long minutes, but nothing else happened.

  “Probably just a wolf,” Taurnil said gruffly, but just then it sounded again, and this time it was much nearer. Every hair on Gaspi’s body stood up at the sound. It was like the howl of a dog or wolf, but deeper and harsher; a ripping, painful sound that made him think of broken glass and ragged flesh.

  “Who goes there?” shouted a magician stationed along with the guards on the gate. Gaspi and Taurnil were on their feet in a moment, staring out at the dark, waiting for it to resolve into some kind of recognisable shape.

  “Taurnil...your staff!” Gaspi exclaimed. Taurnil’s staff was glowing a faint blue - the same colour it had flared when Gaspi had enchanted it. “That can’t be good,” Gaspi said, scanning the darkness even more keenly now, his stomach writhing in nervous anticipation of what he was sure was coming for them. A bright globe of light flew from the hand of the magician below them, illuminating the ground for hundreds of meters around the gate. What it revealed was a scene from a nightmare, causing every muscle in Gaspi’s stomach to clench.

  Staggered along the length of the wall was a ragged line of creatures Gaspi recognised all too well. The man-shaped bulk of heavy-shouldered figures were revealed only by their refusal to reflect the light. Each of them was revealed as a swirling abyss of impenetrable darkness, its bulky shape tapering away to nothing below the waist, gliding leadenly over the ground, heavy as a mountain. Gaspi looked right and left, seeing as many as ten demons spread out along the wall, inexorably approaching the city. Between them were hundreds of fearsome dogs; dogs at least half again the size of the biggest hounds Gaspi had ever seen. They seemed to be covered in a kind of fibrous armour, and were unnaturally heavy at the shoulders. As light flared around them, they broke into a vicious snarling that ripped hoarsely out of ruined throats, and spoke to Gaspi of a rapacious hunger to tear flesh and crush bones beyond repair.

  The demons lifted their black, featureless heads, and howled. No memory of the attack at the gypsy camp could prepare Gaspi for the impact of that sound. It ripped at his sanity like a freezing wind, tearing the loose edges of his self loose and spinning them off into darkness. Next to him, Taurnil’s staff flared bright blue and his friend held it up in front of them, shielding them with light. Protected by the magic of Taurnil‘s staff, Gaspi felt the impact of the sound decrease noticeably, and his senses returned.

  “Taurnil, get down there. I have to go and make sure the fires are lit,” Gaspi said, aware in that moment that he may never see his friend again. Their eyes met in understanding.

  “Stay safe, my friend,” Taurnil said. With that, he vaulted over a low wall and sprinted down the stairs, his glowing staff leaving an imprint on Gaspi’s vision even after he’d disappeared from view.

  Gaspi jumped as a loud warbling sound started abruptly, vibrating through the air, as if it came from all sides. The magician on the gate must have triggered the alarm. Everything in Gaspi wanted to run out after Taurnil, but he knew what his duty was. He ran down the steps and away from the gate, heading to the nearest barrel of tar. He found it quickly and set it alight with a flick of his wrist as he ran past. Residents were stumbling out from their houses, looking around in sleep-dazed confusion.

  “Get inside, and stay there!” Gaspi shouted, and seeing his magician’s robe, they obeyed without question. Gaspi ran from barrel to barrel, calling flame to them with the lightest touch of his power. The streets were filled with tents and wagons, and Gaspi was forced to shout at people until he was hoarse, telling them to abandon their belongings and get into a house. Most people did what he said, but there were plenty who seemed to think they knew best, or who weren’t willing to leave their wagons. Gaspi didn’t have time to persuade them, and ran on.

  He ran upwards into the city, lighting barrels. He came across one that was already crowned with flickering flame. Voltan had drilled all the college’s magicians apart from the Healers in the defence plan, and seeing they had reached their stations, Gaspi had to make a choice; run around and make sure the fires didn’t get put out, or go and fight where he was most needed. There wasn’t really a choice to make; turning on his heel, he sprinted back towards the gate.

  Emea was with Lydia in the dormitory when the alarm sounded. “It’s started,” she said, as both girls leapt to their feet. Both girls had been asked if they wanted to take part in the fighting, and they’d said yes. Emmy had been asked because of her exceptional healing powers and Lydia because she was strong at most spell work and mature enough to handle herself under pressure. Of all the students only they, Gaspi, Everand and Ferast had been given the chance to help out, and Ferast had refused. “Gaspi’s down at the gate with Taurnil,” she said frantically, her heart knotting with fear. “We’ve got to get to them,” she urged.

  Lydia placed a restraining hand on her arm. “They both know what they’re doing, Emmy,” she said firmly, “and we need to be here.” All those who were going to be involved in the defence had been prepared for the eventuality of battle, and whereas Gaspi’s role was to keep fires burning and to directly combat any demonic forces head on, and Taurnil’s was to fight with the guards, Emea was assigned to the infirmary to heal the injured, and Lydia was to defend the college at the gate should the incursion get that far.

  Emea tugged at her arm, trying to pull away, but Lydia strengthened her grip. “Emmy!” she said, firmly.

  Emea stopped struggling, her shoulders dropping in defeat. “Okay...you’re right,” she said. “But I’m at least coming with you to the wall, until people start getting wounded.”

  “Alright - let’s go,” Lydia said, and the two of them marched through the campus to the college gate. Other magicians assigned to the gate were already milling around when they arrived, including Everand, who gave them a determined smile. Emea was relieved to see Voltan there, his face intense and furious as a thundercloud. His warlike countenance was very reassuring in this situation. She recognised a couple of the older students she’d seen around the campus, as well as a few teachers. Lydia stood at her side, a determined look on her face, and Emea wondered how her friend managed to keep calm.

  Voltan had taken a flaming brand from a sconce in the gatehouse, and lit two large barrels of tar. “Listen up!” he said commandingly, and
everyone fell silent, giving him their full attention. “Try not to use the tar up too fast. Shape a sphere like this,” he said, gesturing with a hand to bring a globe of tar up about three times the size of his fist. Flames flickered from it, causing the air around it to shimmer in the heat. “We don’t know exactly how effective this will be until we try it, but it should hurt them. If they break through the wall and we run out of tar, move back to the next set of barrels. Everyone clear?” he asked, looking round the group, as everyone gave their assent.

  Seeing Emea, he made a beeline for her. “Shouldn’t you be at the infirmary?” he asked.

  “No-one is injured yet,” Emea answered as firmly as she could in the face of his fierce gaze. “And what if someone gets injured here and needs me right away?”

  He looked at her steadily for a long moment. “So be it!” he said, and moved on to speak to another magician.

  Emmy smiled weakly at Lydia, who gave her a quick hug. “Looks like we’ll fight them off together, then,” Lydia said bravely.

  The sounds of battle could be heard from the lower city. There was a dreadful baying that sounded like a pack of demented dogs, the screams and shouts of men fighting for their lives; but worst of all were the unearthly howls that made her shudder right down to her toes. As those particular howls drew nearer, so did the screams. These weren’t the battle screams of fighting and wounded men, but something more primal; the kind of sound she imagined a person could only make if they were being broken by unbearable terror. She and Lydia shared a glance as an especially long scream pierced the night. They both knew what kind of creature could cause a person to make that sound, and it wouldn’t be long before they’d be facing it once again.

  All the magicians at the gate were silent now, scanning the darkness between buildings for the first sign of their enemy. It seemed to Emea that they’d been standing like that forever, every nerve afire with adrenaline; and then it was upon them, and the waiting was over far too soon. The darkness in front of the gate seemed to move, a greater darkness gliding out of the general murk, taller than the tallest of the Mages by at least another head, boiling and swirling with a power that spoke of the theft of light and life. Emea broke into a sweat as the first wave of fear passed over her, an icy chill stabbing right into her belly. The creature emerged fully into the lamplight, its dark head swivelling to take in the crowd of magicians standing in its path. The ground at Emea’s feet crackled as an icy coating spread its fingers over everything, and her breath misted in the moonlight. It seemed to swell even larger for a moment, before the heavy head dipped and thrust forward from the weighty bulk of what might be shoulders as it let out a heart-stopping howl. Emea would have fallen over if it wasn’t for Lydia, who had grabbed her arm – whether to help Emea or to steady herself, she didn’t know.

  All thoughts of fighting fled from her mind, as she simply fought to hold onto sanity. Her soul shrank to a faint glimmer as fear forced her back into the deepest recesses of her mind, her body unresponsive to the urge to run for her life. As if from down a great distance she heard a human shout, and dimly recognised Voltan in the sound. A great ball of fire, much larger than the one Voltan had summoned minutes earlier, swept past her towards the dark creature, and in its wake she felt her terror diminish. The creature’s fearsome howl changed to a cry of pain as the flaming tar-ball struck it in the chest, where flames now crackled in a wide circle. Its head snapped up, glaring at Voltan, its bottomless eyes black vortices of hatred that seemed to pulse with dark power. Charging at its antagonists, the demon roared in agonised fury, anger and pain driving it to put an end to those that opposed it; but it was halted in its path by several fireballs flung by other magicians, freed from the grip of horror by Voltan’s bravery. Red hot flame flared all over its body in a conflagration, as the balls of burning tar hit it. Its howl of pain escalated into a jagged, wheezing roar that was no less horrible for its brokenness. It writhed in agony for unendurable seconds, turning this way and that in an effort to escape the pain it hadn’t known it could feel, but in the end the demon collapsed in on itself. Its death howl ended in sudden silence, and all that was left were a few remnants of burning tar flickering fitfully on the ground.

  Emea patted herself, as if to make sure she was still all there, and turned to look at Lydia, whose face was unnaturally pale beneath her dark, gypsy complexion. Before either of them had a chance to say anything, Voltan hissed in warning and she turned to see a sight that froze the blood in her veins.

  Three more demonic creatures were emerging out of the blackness between buildings, converging on the gate from different directions. For a brief second before the madness began, Emea wondered how many more of them there were. Then fireballs were flying through the gate as the magicians shouted in defiance, borrowing courage from their victory over the first of the demons. Lydia lifted a hand purposefully, her fingers splayed widely as she summoned a burning ball of tar from one of the barrels. Her friend looked to be filled with a cold fury as she gestured with her upraised hand and flung the ball of burning pitch right at the head of one of the creatures. Emea glanced across at Everand. He was pale-faced and clearly terrified, but with gritted teeth he was throwing fireball after fireball at the demons.

  Realising she was doing nothing to help, Emea reached out with her power as well, containing as much burning tar within a strike as she could manage. It wasn’t quite as big as the sphere Voltan had used to demonstrate with, but it would have to do. Flicking her wrist, she threw it out at the same creature Lydia had attacked. Although it moved slowly, her strike hit the demon below the waist, leaving a second patch of flame on its dark bulk as it rushed forward. For a moment it looked like the magicians had the upper hand in the fight, as fireballs landed on all three of the demons, but then two more slid heavily out of the darkness, moving quickly towards the gate.

  The combined fear effect of five of the creatures was unbearable. Emea felt frozen on the inside as well as the outside, except for her labouring heart, which was trying to beat itself right out of her chest. It seemed as if the other magicians were similarly affected, as the flow of fireballs had all but dried up. Only Voltan continued to fight, throwing fireball after fireball with his teeth gritted, every tendon standing out in sharp relief on his neck as sweat poured down his face. But it wasn’t enough. One of the five demons was out of action, covered in a rippling wreath of flame that looked likely to kill it as it howled and writhed in pain and anger. The remaining four converged on the gateway at the same time, and then were suddenly caught in mid-motion. Dark heads swivelled this way and that, accompanied by harsh roars of anger as the magic of the wall was activated. The wall itself, and the slender span of enchanted stone spanning over the head of the four creatures, flared with a searing radiance - a kind of fierce golden glow. Roars of rage swiftly turned to howls of pain as the ancient enchantment fought them, searing them as they tried to push through into the college.

  The fifth demon had perished outside the gate now, and with the four creatures battling to break the enchantment of the wall, Emea felt the dread that had immobilised her loosen its grip. She watched with a horrified fascination as the creatures started to steam and smoke, as the dJin had done all those months ago. Even Voltan had stopped attacking and was grimly watching the magic of the wall do its work. The demons were boiling with a fathomless hatred that was in itself terrifying to behold. How could any creature be filled with such black violence, and not be destroyed from the inside?

  Steam was pouring off the demons in clouds now, as they continued to be resisted by the magic of the wall. Emea couldn’t see how they could last much longer. The one on the right suddenly burst into flames and was consumed, and Emea felt a momentary surge of hope. But wait; had the glow of the wall flickered? Emea stared at the glowing stone, hoping beyond hope that she’d imagined it, but no...there it was again. The bright radiance of the wall was no longer constant. It kept dimming and then blazing back into light again, and each time the l
ight returned it was a little less bright than it had been previously. As if sensing victory, the three creatures howled in concert, their combined sound causing Emea’s heart to lurch into her throat in an uncontrollable spasm of fear.

  Suddenly Voltan was shouting orders. “THERE IS ALMOST NO TAR LEFT. IF THEY BREAK THROUGH THE GATE SPLIT UP AND FALL BACK TO THE NEXT BARRELS. WE HAVE TO SPLIT THEM UP. THEY ARE TOO POWERFUL TOGETHER. WHEN I SAY RUN, RUN!” And with that he summoned up the remaining tar into a large flaming strike, holding it ready to throw if the magic of the wall failed.

  A sharp crack sounded through the night, and Emea looked up in horror to see a jagged break in the stone arch splinter right through the upper part of the gateway’s span. The golden light shone defiantly for one last second before flickering out completely, and broken rock tumbled down on the demon’s heads.

  “RUN!” Voltan yelled, as he sent the last fireball surging into the demon that looked most weakened by the battle with the enchantment of the wall. Emea watched in stupefied fascination as it was engulfed in flame. Lydia was tugging at her arm and shouting something in her ear. She found the strength in her legs, turned, and ran for her life.

  When Gaspi arrived back at the gates, the fighting had already moved inside the city wall. The Mage stationed with the guards was nowhere to be seen, and all but one of the demons had already moved on into the city. The one that remained was surrounded by dozens of the dog-like creatures, boiling over each other in a killing frenzy. The guards had been joined by reinforcements from the barracks, and were holding their own. It was easy to see Taurnil, whose blazing blue staff swept through the night in a broad arc. In the light of the staff Gaspi could see Jonn fighting alongside his best friend, and he was pretty sure that was Erik right next to them.