The Spark

by Taylor Gibson

  The area where the jaqae camped was silent and surrounded by our small, yet mighty force. Without a moment to spare, I cast a spell of invisibility on myself and jumped the long way down, defying gravity with a nature-craft spell that made me gracefully drift to the ground. I began to sneak by the laughing demons, who were drunk on acid ale and decomposed, raw mutton with mushrooms. The filth of this blighted place was unbearable to my nose, and even to my skin which was suffering some very small degree of burning. The presence of these creatures was so dark and malevolent, that the air itself began to putrefy.

  Circumventing around the unwary foes, I made my way to the spot where a rockslide was set up to fall on a great number of jaqae. The only thing that was missing in that area, however, were the demons themselves. I picked up a large stone lying on the ground and threw it at the back of the closest jaqa’s head, knocking him out and snagging the attention of a great many others in the perimeter. The unsuspecting victims of the foredooming rock slide moved into place where I intended.

  I made my way through the crowd with ease, not touching a single jaqa’s body as I passed between. They stood looking around for any explanation as to what threw the rock, but could find none. I had to be quick on my feet before they moved on, assuming it was just a fallen stone from the mountain. The next location was the catapult target area. This was within the half-walls, surrounding a great many beasts already. The only thing I had to do to concentrate them in greater numbers was make it sound as though the more distant ones were being called over by the blacksmith for weapon inspection.

  So, after that was accomplished, I knew the only thing I had left to do was herd the rest of the lavender skins into the giant crossbow’s range. The few remaining jaqae could be dealt with in mêlée combat. With the jaqae in place and the traps ready to fire, the main event was soon to begin with the rockslide on the western end. I climbed the rocky dell and rejoined the mages at the top of the mountain to ensure they had everything in check. As far as I could perceive, the triggers were more than ready to be pulled.

  Our hearts began to pound on the silent overlooking mountain. The jaqae were completely unaware of our plot, but they were definitely certain that something ominously deadly was about to happen to them. In the last minute before they moved back to their normal positions, I gave the commands to the eleven mages and the Archmage to unleash the death traps on the demons below. With a raised sword, I shouted at the top of my lungs and prepared myself for the last battle with the jaqae I would ever fight.

  Massive boulders fell like comets on the heads of the purple demons, squashing them into a lake of blood and bones. The catapults launched tons of bricks and stones that had been forged in the mines, not too far away. The cataclysmic impact it had was devastating. Using all the giant, flaming-red bolts we had for the cross bow, we shot explosives at the jaqae on the east and north ends. Overwhelmed by all of the hatred and resentment for what they had done to this once prosperous and beautifully lush place, the mages and I climbed down the rocks like enraged apes, and prepared to slay the remaining abominations in the southern perimeter.

  Death was unavoidable for the remaining demons. Although the students lacked experience, they had been able to survive the assault on Salidiah Pulse, which reassured me, to a certain extent. The jaqae were heavily armored and carried stout shields, sharp blades, and blunt maces and bats. The day grew dark in mood as blades and magick collided, without a pinch of mercy, or decline in might, on both ends. I smashed into three of them at once, knocking them straight to the ground, where they became paralyzed and were struck by Malcolm’s bomb of destructive energy.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the teachers under the stone of a bruiser with a thick club, which he used to press down upon her breaking staff. I ran to her aid as fast as I possibly could, but despite my efforts, I was too late. The young lady was struck and killed instantly by the enemy’s heavy bat. I continued to face him with a rush of adrenaline, clashing my staff against his bat and crossing it with my sword. He pressed down on me with increasing force, and got closer to my face with his hideous fangs bared. Just when I thought that I was going to fall to the ground, Diruiyal stabbed him in the back, and made the blade’s tip jut out of the beast’s blood-gargling throat.

  I nodded to him in recognition of my rescue, and continued to slay the jaqae, fighting with a fiery hatred. Jimmithon and his brother, Harri, fought side by side against the jaqae while two other students spit spells back to back. I cast a shield around each of the remaining mages in case they were struck the teacher had been. The shield would only block one blow, however, and no more than that.

  As loud as I could, I shouted out four, three syllable words that were neither comprehendible, nor able to be spoken by anyone except a high wizard, such as me. I could see the shattering of the demons’ shields and the breaking of their balance. For the shout I had roared was a pulverizing snarl that spent a great deal of my energy, allowing me to finish the demons I had broken into vulnerability. My skin tightened a bit, and I knew I was starting to degrade.

  I could see the fight growing in the jaqae, after they realized that their lives were drawing to a close. Two more students were felled by the blades and axes of jaqae bone. One of the two students that were killed had a brother. Furious over his brother’s death, he fought harder with all of the power he had boiling in him, he shocked a heap of lavenders and burned them to a black charred crisp. He then sliced off the heads of the many who dared to come near his beloved, brother’s corpse. Afilan had fought as boldly as the rest. I had to ensure that no more mages died by the claws of the jaqae.

  Seeing that there were far too many of them to face in our current position, I called a retreat to the vale, where we could lead them into a trap. It was a trap that nature had conveniently set for those who truly needed it in times of strife. Tears filled many eyes as we fled for our lives, including my own, mixed with blood and sweat. There is never anything glorious about the heat of a battle. It’s just something leaders of nations tell you to get you onto the battlefield and serve a purpose.

  Those who fight with reason will tell you no different. As a nearly millennia old man with wisdom as high as the zodiacs, there is a lot I know of. There are also things I wish that I had never encountered and things I still do not understand and hope to remain ignorant of. The point in what I’m trying to say is; this battle, unlike all the many other fights I have been a part of, this particular battle, shook me to a stage of depression one should never reach. Battle, blood, gore, steel, and iron are the things nightmares are made of, for me. I hoped that after this battle was done, it would be my final. Sometimes we are called upon to fight and we have little choice but to answer the call.

  The jaqae followed us closely, with a rage that only monsters like them could possess. I picked up the pace and ordered Diruiyal to cast a speed enhancing perk on all of us. The jaqae were closing in on us quicker than a stampede of mad buffalo. As we made it between the mountains, I realized that it would be some time before we reached the trap I had planned out. Unable to keep up the pace, I called off the retreat and began to fight with all of the fire inside of me. The rest of the remaining mages fought and fought, slaying demon after demon, wearing their thick, black blood upon their clothing and faces. Many times I coughed up blood, and felt as though I was going to shrivel up into a deteriorated bag of skin and bone.

  In the midst of the bloodshed, screaming, and tears, I could find only one true peace, and it was within. By absorbing the negative energy around me, I was able to recollect it into a positive more celestial energy that I could use to defend these mages from enduring any further damage. It restored some of my body’s well-being as well. I used this power to shield the men and women who were already stricken and robbed of the shield spell I had initially given them. A mere twenty-four jaqae remained, and all of them were the toughest of the lot.

  As I covered for the mage
s and blocked any attacks coming close to them, one larger, more grotesque jaqa was targeting me with his malice, and two great battle axes in each of his massive hands. I went to slash at him as quickly as he swung at my head, clanking weapons with this formidable foe, standing nearly twice my size. His glowing, red eyes spat darkness at me and forced my spirit to rattle inside my chest. The spit from the beast’s repulsive mouth splattered all over my beard and hair like a shower, as he roared and distorted my vision with his hot gusting breath. It was made obvious to me that he was the leader of these monsters by the dreaded tattoos all over his dark-violet skin, and he was not about to take me on, without stealing my life away.

  Pressing against his axes with all of my might made no difference. The barbaric demon overpowered me like a dragon against a buck. I was knocked to the ground and left vulnerable; to be finished off. The mages on my side were nowhere to be seen in the clusters of heavy-plated jaqae, roaring and swatting their swords around. I feared the worst, not for my life, but for Sui’s back home. After everything I had been through in my long walk of life, I thought to myself, is this the end?

  My staff was just in arms reach, but my sword had been lost among the piles of fresh bodies and other weapons. As the jaqa came down to strike we with his axes, I used a time spell that slowed his attack, in order to weaken the impact. Crying out in pain, I saw what the damn monster had done to my chest. He created a massive gap in the flesh, causing blood to flow out of my body like a maroon waterfall. I immediately slammed my hand down on the wound to keep pressure on it. The throbbing was the worst of it. Every time my heart beat under my revealed ribcage, I could feel a jolt of sharp pain shoot like an arrow through my cold, pale body.

  I kept praying that the high elf Espersia would come to my aid with a healing spell. She was one of the teachers I had met earlier, and I hoped she was still alive. I was far too weak to move, much less capable of using any sort of magick incantation for my restoration. The only thing that kept me from enduring further harm was the ignorance the jaqae had that I was still alive. I looked like all the other corpses that lay on the ground, waiting for the battle to be finished. In an attempt to call Espersia’s name, I realized that my voice was far too low and raspy to get past the level of the ground. The only thing that I could do as an old man, wounded in the middle of a battle, was wait it out until the end. One of the mages would eventually find me in a pool of blood, barely alive, if I survived.

  I could see that the battle was pressing forward away from me, so I let out a wheezing sigh of relief and passed the time by thinking about my family back in Rïdeneer and how much I missed their warm smiles. There was nothing I wouldn’t give to have them here to help me; nothing in the Fancore would have made me happier than to have Sui at my side. I called out for the high elf again, hoping that my voice had returned, but alas; there was no sound that could be perceived. For nearly half an hour, I continued to hold my shallow, yet gory, wound with bare hands. I kept myself calm by thinking about the brighter sides of life; the reasons why we should protect everything life had to offer.

  Just when I was about to pass out into a deep, painful sleep, I found Diruiyal, Espersia, and Jimmithon standing over me with their bodies worn from the battle and burned by the god-awful smelling sulfur that came from jaqa blood. It was a horrible sight for them to see me in my current condition. Espersia took my hand off of my chest, ripped open a wide hole in my shirt, and laid her hands on the wound. There was no pain when she healed me, only relief of the agonizing throbbing and nasty blood spills that had been torturing my body as I lay there for such a long time. I was certainly grateful that she was there to mend my wounds. While she released her benevolent energy upon me, I closed my eyes and fell asleep with ease.

  The dreams I dreamt were of Sui and George in the Crosscc plains. They seemed to have been searching for something important, while keeping their eyes open for me. In the past, my dreams have proven to be actual events taking place at the same time that I was dreaming them. This ability was a psychic gift that came as natural to me as the Fancore’s constant growth.

  I could sense that there was another group of people that they were searching for. I didn’t know who it could have been, but it definitely caused me to grow impatient. I nearly wanted to end the dream and try to force myself awake, but then something caught my eye among the fog clouds of dreamland. In the hills of Crosscc, I saw footprints made by an essence of evil, following them without their noticing. Knowing that my dreams and nightmares have served as excellent fortune tellers, I knew that something had to be done for them before any harm was made by that invisible creature. In the middle of this nightmare, I used what little energy I had in my body to touch base with the distant reality. In other words, I was about to go into Sui and George’s reality with my astral body to stop this essence, while still lingering in the dream world. I traced the footsteps of the strange phantom over the hills and through the flat planes, until I ultimately discovered that it was not a mere malevolence. This was a curse; a dark and powerful evil that had once consumed an entire body. George’s neko demon curse was still following him, even after it was cast away by Sui’s love. It took on the frightening manifestation of a feline beast. I knew that there was nothing I could possibly do for him at this time. Even wizards are limited in what we’re able to interfere with across space and time.

  I slowly backed away, staring at the apparition, hunching its back and following them as close as could be. Its body was covered in fur and its ears were those of a lynx or bobcat. Just when I was about to turn my head away from it, its face peered back at me over its shoulder and sneered with a wicked purr. The eyes were milky white without any sort of iris to be found. It seemed to be taunting me as it snickered in a low growl, presenting its fangs as a threat if I were to come any closer. The markings upon its face were daunting. Nothing about this phantom was benevolent; there was not but cruelty, scorn, misery, and madness in this manifested, demonic curse that had once plagued George’s poor soul.

  In the final moments of this nightmare, I sensed that there was warmth awaiting me in the conscious world. I took my chance to escape from that gaze into Imga I and opened my eyes. When I woke up, I was laying shirtless, in a bed, with white wrappings around my chest and back. I was in another strange place where that old dog Diruiyal was keeping me. But this place was much more pleasant than the dark room. The place I found myself in was marvelous; burgundy trees waved in the winds just outside the window, bringing in the twilight from the yellow horizon. The room was lit with candles and incense that carried my sinuses’ impurities away to another place. The colors of my surroundings were camouflaging shades of blood maroon, deep burgundy, and crisp mahogany. This room was a paradise to me. I took back everything I thought about Diruiyal. It was as if he read my mind and found what really makes me a happy old man.

  The door at the foot of my bed opened without a knock. It was Espersia Day holding a chalice of water for me to drink and cool my throat.

  “You are a fighter of wounds, Äbaka. I don’t wish to burden you with a broad question such as this, but may I inquire about your strange ability to hold back death?”

  “An elvish woman like you?” I turned my head in surprise, “Why would you of all people want to know what it takes to defy the grim reaper?”

  “I’m sorry. I only wanted to-”

  “Well, I guess it won’t hurt to let you know that there is a spell to shun Death’s skeletal fingers, even if you have no energy left in your body or soul. You may only perform it when your spirit is truly about to embrace the other side. It’s not meant to be used lightly.”

  “Will you teach it to me? In case I face a similar fate?”

  I shook my head and answered her the only way I could, “It’s not a thing I can teach. I acquired it on my own, and there are no lessons as to how to use it. The truth is, Espersia, I am not immortal. I’ve just cheated death one too many times and m
y age is catching up with me after more than nine centuries. When I first knew how to use it, I wished I could tell the entire Fancore so that all of us could defeat the hooded skull and live as one body forever and ever. But I realized this; in the end; it would cause indescribable, unthinkable chaos.” I paused to think of what else I could say. “Imagine if the allies of Jobik found out how to use this power. The Angel of Death does not pick the side of good or evil. If everyone knew how to defy him, it would backfire on us, creating an unlimited war that would never end as long as Death was shunned. Mortality and immortality come with their pros and cons. You see, there’s a feeling that you get when you slap away the hand of Death and emerge from out of the shadows. It’s addicting; like a drug. You want more, but you can feel that it is harming you from the inside out. What I’m trying to say, Espersia, is that you can enjoy immortality naturally, where as I cannot because I am not.”

  The high elf stood there silently then gave me a short reply.

  “I will consider your story as a word of the most valuable advice.”

  “It is valuable advice, Ms. Day.”

  “Please, just Espersia.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the way Espersia looked at Diruiyal when we were at the camp before the attack. It was almost as though she was fond of him.

  “Espersia, may I ask what your opinion of the Archmage is?”

  “I suppose,” she blushed, “you could say I’m rather fond of his eyes.”

  For an elf over the age of a thousand, she sure acted like a young woman with a crush when it came to this man. I recall seeing Diruiyal looking at her in the same fashion. For a moment, she just stood there and blushed; thinking about Diruiyal and how much she adored him. To break the awkward silence, I asked her questions about what had happened on the battle field.