“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Endrance admitted. “Now I just hurt all over.” Maybe he could get Joven to help him get a better look at the circle.
Joven grunted. At some point he had managed to convince the innkeeper to leave and that there was less damage to the room than initially thought. The barbarian had put everything back that he could, and dumped the few broken pieces of pottery and one mirror in a corner.
“I am almost afraid to ask.” Joven began, “But what in the hells happened to you?”
Endrance attempted a shrug with minimal success. “I… I think I somehow inscribed a spell onto my back. While I was under the effect of that drink you made me take.”
“Made?” Joven grumbled. “You wanted to have it.”
“No, you’re right.” Endrance admitted. “But I had this vision of this amazing, huge bird with wings of fire and ruby eyes. Then when I snapped out of it the room was trashed and I was scribed.”
Joven’s eyes squinted suspiciously. “It was a firebird? A Fjallar?”
“Ja-what?” Endrance asked.
“Fjallar.” Joven said carefully. “It’s a fiery bird in our histories, the story behind has been passed down since the first days. Its presence was a symbol of great change. Some say the end of the world.”
“Is… Is there a totem that the… Fjallar is represented in?” Endrance asked. “Because I didn’t see much else during the vision.”
Joven shook his head. “I do not know. You would have to talk to the Ergkinoa about it; they are the masters of our history and culture. I thought you would have ended up a field mouse or forest fox.”
Endrance frowned at his bodyguard. “Field mouse?”
Joven grinned. “Yes.” He held his hands together to indicate something tiny. “Very rare totem.”
“I can imagine why.” Endrance muttered.
“So what is this scribe thing you said you did to yourself against your will?” Joven asked. Somehow again he had managed to make what happened sound ridiculous to him.
“I’m not entirely sure.” Endrance said after a long suffering sigh. “I can’t get a clean enough look at it.”
“Do you want me to hold a mirror for you?” Joven asked.
“No. It’s something complicated enough as it is, trying to translate a reflection of it would be even more difficult.” Endrance admitted. “How is your ability to write?”
Joven grunted. “I can’t even see the symbols clearly. They’re squirmy.”
Endrance nodded. “Oh, right, I forgot about that. Maybe we can get an impression?”
Joven scrutinized the young man’s back. “Well, looks like there was some bleeding. I think I can take a cloth and…”
The barbarian tore a square of the white inner sheets of the young wizard’s bed, and laid the square across the mage’s back. After carefully smoothing it across his skin, he peeled it off gingerly. The cloth stuck to his back over the areas Endrance had been scribed, evoking a hiss of pain as the cloth pulled up.
The barbarian laid the cloth across the top of one of the tables, letting the blood do what little soaking in it had left to do. Endrance grimaced when he stood, but was able to walk over to the table and sit down in front of it. When the cloth had soaked up the little traces of blood, Endrance flipped the sheet over so he could read it from the other side, so it would be like looking right at his back.
He was better able to make sense of the spell scribed circle now. From what he had been taught by Talos, having runes inscribed was a very rare thing; very few spells required them. Though his understanding of runes was only the basics, he could make out a few runes that copied over well enough to make sense of.
The circle had other arcane lines worked through it, and he wondered how drastically this had shifted his meridians. They had to have been stretched out, or expanded upon in order to make these lines and markings. The young mage tried discerning the purpose of the circle, but could only come to one conclusion.
“Well, it’s not a spell.” Endrance admitted after a long few minutes of scrutiny. “At least not a spell that is activated when I power it like the lightning spell scribed on me.”
“Then what is it?” Joven asked.
“It’s an ongoing effect scribing.” Endrance stated. “Archmagus Talos had several of them but he said they were more costly, difficult, and painful to inscribe properly. Now I understand just how much more painful and costly it was.”
“Costly?” Joven asked. “What did it cost?”
“As far as this is concerned, it cost space.” Endrance replied. “I only have so much space on my body for spellscribing to work on. This circle covers all but the upper area of my shoulders and the lower part of my back. Talos inferred during his conversation with me that an ongoing effect scribed takes many times more space than a spell of the same power.”
“Why?” Joven asked.
“It’s complicated.” Endrance said, not sure how he would explain it to the barbarian. “A spell is only active for when I empower it. An ongoing effect is always going to be active. It takes more lines and therefore space to make sure it remains active.”
“Yeah. That sounds complicated.” Joven admitted with shrug. “Is it going to kill you?”
Endrance was quiet a moment. “I don’t… think so. It just hurt like I was getting skinned alive.”
“Ah!” Joven exclaimed. “I knew a man who had almost had that happen to him. They managed to stitch the skin back on his arm.”
“Really?” Endrance asked.
“Yes.” Joven said with a chuckle. “His eyes were so big. I’ve never thought a man that strong would scream exactly like a little girl.”
Endrance shook his head. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
Joven shrugged. “Anyways. Get some sleep if you can. We need to get to work tomorrow getting our supplies together. We won’t be able to afford another night here. Not after having to pay to replace the stuff you broke.”
Endrance shrugged sheepishly, the pain having faded to an annoying itchy burn. “Sorry.”
Joven smiled at him. “No. It was very impressive.” He said in a congratulatory tone. “I don’t think you could have broken half of that stuff otherwise.”
“Right.” Endrance said. “I’m going to try to sleep.”
Joven merely nodded, and sank onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Endrance tore the remains of his shirt off and threw himself on the bed, laying on his stomach. The pillows smelled faintly of burnt cloth, and the top sheet had a large square torn out of it, but even so he was able to fall asleep in minutes.
Chapter 20
Endrance rode his horse hard, even though the layer of snow across the terrain and heavy snowfall made it incredibly dangerous to do so. He had lost track of Joven several long minutes ago, back when the howling had started catching up. The barbarian had urged that they take a fast pace once they left Fini proper and were passing through the snowy territory before they left the kingdom’s borders.
For a while an occasional wolf’s howl had been heard far and distant, wavering over the snowy woodlands that they trotted through. However half an hour prior they were startled by a howl that was close enough to shake loose some flakes from the pines that rose up around them. Joven then pushed the two of them forwards at a much faster pace, but the lone wolf’s cry was joined by several others. It was only when their pursuers burst into view that they were able to see that it was a pack of wolfmen, not wolves, that hunted them.
Endrance raced his horse as fast as he would dare to through the pines as he tried to keep going in the direction that Joven had pointed out to him. The increasing snowfall and the uniformity of the snowy lands made it almost impossible to determine exactly what direction he was traveling in. They had not even seen the suns over the last several days since they had left Fini and traveled north of the river confluence the city sat on. They must have gotten off of the roads in the snow and the constant storms made it almost impossible to find a
ny signal fires.
Even now, though his bodyguard had fallen behind, Endrance could hear the sounds of pursuit. Several animal grunts and growls trailed behind him as his mount dashed through the snow. Occasionally he heard the faint echo of hoof beats behind him, and Joven’s battle cry would reach his ears, followed by the sharp yelp of an injured animal. His bodyguard was doing his duty, but some of the wolfmen had circumvented him and continued pursuing Endrance.
The young wizard leaned forwards into his saddle, and pulled the glove off his right hand with his teeth as he tightly gripped the reigns with his other gloved hand. The pale red tinged fur of the tiger’s hide was a decent insulator from the heat, and if it was as tough as Joven said it might protect him from more than just the snow. He switched hands and pocketed the glove with as close to a snarl as the young man had the ability to imitate. At least he had developed a spell to alleviate the cold if he needed to.
The sounds of pursuit increased, and the occasional snap of a branch or rustling bush got closer, and Endrance realized that these wolfmen had the advantage of terrain and knew better these lands than Endrance ever could. At this rate capture or death would be inevitable. He had to get away from them somehow. Even a few dozen yards advantage could save his skin.
The wizard risked a glance over his shoulder, and was terrified to see three furry shapes rushing through the snow on four limbs, nimble in addition to their obvious power and muscular forms. From what Endrance saw, the wolf men wore armor and weapons like a human or elf or dwarf did, but their equipment seemed strange and more primal, made of roughly shaped metals and crudely cut leather. Their bodies were massive, bigger than the average human with shaggy gray and white fur that covered their skin. They had completely wolfish heads, and shaggy wolf tails that waved in the wind as they hunted him. Their eyes however had an intelligent quality to them, though they were filled with blood lust as they pursued their prey.
Endrance dashed his horse to the right, and then to the left, trying to shake the wolves as he sought desperately to escape their hunt. They were relentless however, and easily foiled Endrance’s attempts at escape. His horse was breathing hard; the poor thing would be tiring soon. If the horse tripped or slowed too much he might as well give up now.
The young wizard knew that if he didn’t do anything he would be brought down by these creatures. Though he was terrified for his life, he realized that he needed to act to save himself. Calling upon the reserves of magical energy within him, Endrance twisted in his saddle abruptly and cried out wordlessly as he pointed with two fingers at the leading wolfman that was pursuing him.
In his mind, he just channeled power through his fingers, and the spell scribed meridians on his body shaped the power into the correct form to make the lightning spell work. His bare hand crackled with power and lightning welled deep from his chest, down his arm, and to the tip of his fingers, where it leapt through the air at his foe. Which was why he’d removed the glove; He’d found out during his stay at Zadrah’s hideout that the lightning would burn through any cloth or rope around his fingers, and he didn’t want to ruin the only pair of winter gloves he had.
There was a sharp crack as lightning split the air. The dim wintery day was brightened tenfold as the snowy terrain reflected the light like mirrors and steam erupted in a line as the lightning vaporized any snow falling within a foot of its power. There was a spray of blood as the wolfman recoiled, his left shoulder nearly destroyed and rendering the arm useless as the lightning crackled through his body. Bloody droplets spattered the thickening snow and the sides of an elder pine tree as the injured wolfman thrashed painfully, tossing blood-flecked clumps of white into the air.
Endrance started to cast a second volley when he suddenly realized he had let go of the reigns and was not steering the horse. He snapped his attention to what was in front of him right as a large pine branch loomed in from the obscuring snow, crashing into him and cleanly unseating him from the horse. The young wizard saw stars for a moment and then white as he slammed into the snow covered earth.
The impact onto his back set the still healing lines in his skin burning again. Dazed and in pain, Endrance could not help but lay on the snow with the world spinning in his head. He saw a shadow dart past, a silhouette that was most likely a wolfman chasing down his horse. The disorientation started to clear when the other wolfman’s form loomed over him. In a panic he scrabbled at the snow trying to push himself away from his canine assailant.
The wolfman carried a crudely crafted steel axe in his furry hands, and it stood upright on hind paws. The armor was crafted of bands of steel bolted onto leather straps which creaked in the silence of the snow filled night. Snow crusted the edges of the roughly hammered and nicked steel bands. Its fangs bared, the wolfman lifted his axe high over its head with one hand.
“Outsiders!” It growled through the sound of the windblown snow. Its voice was brutal, human sounding but gravelly and strange. “Begone!” it brought the axe down with dangerous swiftness. Endrance yelled in fear and desperately rolled to his right in an attempt to avoid the blow. The axe crashed into the ground with a resounding thud, kicking dirt and snow into the back of Endrance’s head as he rolled to his feet.
The young wizard scrambled through the snow, the cold biting into his uncovered right hand. He had to get far enough away to hit him with his lightning, or else he was as good as dead. The wolfman snarled again, taking one step forward. Endrance kept the wolfman in his perception, stumbling back as it moved slowly but purposefully towards him. The faintly falling snow wafted around and through the warrior’s ruffs of fur as he passed the trees and sparse shrubs. It was almost a serene scene, the young wizard noticed.
The wolf’s step was sure and steady despite the invisible tangle of forest floor underneath the concealing comfort of several inches of snow. The way he carried the axe in his furred hand, the shrug of his shoulders as he both limbered up his arm for the swing as well as shift his armor to prevent it from impeding the lethal stroke. He was leaner than the mage originally had thought; thick fur covered ropey muscles instead of sheer bulk. Though the creature’s snout and face was that of a large wolf, it had a very human expression. Unexpectedly, Endrance could see that this savage warrior looked regretful.
“Please!” Endrance shouted. “Wait!” He held out his hands pleadingly. “We don’t have to kill each other! We can still make peace!”
The wolfman’s left ear twitched, and his pace slowed a small amount. “Too late.” The wolfman growled at him, his voice lighter than expected but still as gravely. Endrance was able to pick up what made this one’s voice strange, it had a lilting quality to it that reminded him of a dog’s whine. Perhaps speaking in human tongues hurt their throats.
“You have seen our Bastraum, and you have slain our kin.” The wolfman concluded. “This time, there will be no peace!”
“Bastraum?” Endrance asked, but was only answered by the Wolfman’s renewed charge.
As the wolfman’s stride ate up the short distance the wizard had gained, he raised his axe over his head again with a howl. Endrance flung his hand out and called upon the reserves of power in his aura. The sudden discharge of electrical power sent the settling snow scattering from his shoulders as lightning was unchained yet again.
The wolfman lunged to his left, ducking under the crackling beam of power that thundered through the night sky. Endrance stumbled back as he tried to both adjust his aim and to believe that it was possible to dodge a lightning bolt. His heel caught on a root, and he fell backwards onto his rear as a sharp pain shot up his leg. The blunder saved his head, as the wolfman’s swipe arced through the air where his neck had previously occupied.
In a blind panic Endrance threw more of his energy into his scribed spell. The still aglow spell form entwining the first two fingers on his right hand blazed into brilliance again. This time his fingers itched painfully and Endrance winced at the sudden change, but the lightning came forth with as much force an
d brilliance as before.
This time the spell was far too close to dodge even with his animal reflexes. The blast hit the wolfman square in the chest, filling the air around him with the smell of scorched fur. The lightning carried his foe several dozen feet away and into a tree trunk, his howl of anger cut short. Clumps of snow fell from the boughs of the tree, scattering around the still smoking form slumped at the bottom.
Endrance took a breath, then another. His head hurt from the fall off his horse, his hand hurt yet again from overusing the lightning spell, and he suspected he had twisted his ankle when he had fallen. He tried to rise, and after a moment of using a tree trunk as a brace he was able to gain his feet again. He stumbled towards the wolfman he had slain. He had come to rest against the very tree that had knocked him from the horse and had guaranteed a life or death struggle. He needed to try to follow his horses’ tracks before the snow covered them up. As he approached, the stench of burnt meat and fur grew stronger.
He would like to think that it was morbid curiosity that led him to take a close look at what he had done. As he surveyed the damage his spell had caused, he realized for the first time that he had never yet actually seen the results of his magic. Sure, he had used the spell before, even killed before out of necessity, but he never had actually seen the effects it had in any detail. He knew it was effective, but every time before it had been dark, or he had to look out for others, or he was blindfolded… This time he had to see it, if he wanted to be able to follow the trail and find his horse.
The body was quite recognizable, though much of the fur across his front had been scorched black or burned away entirely. There was a neatly burned hole the size of the young mage’s fist in the chest of his armor, and through which he could see a charred mess of burnt gristle and bone. The iron bands of his armor had heated white hot for an instant during the blast, and were now glowing a dull red as they cooled and cracked in the cold winter air. The body twitched, and the whole thing was just too much for him to handle.
Spellscribed: Provenance Page 18