"Stroma, the god I once knew, was very powerful," Ashan said, standing from the side of the bed and looking at the god. "This is the same god, and he is very powerful, but he is not so powerful as he was."
"And am I more powerful than the old Stroma you once knew? Who do you think would win in a fight?"
"Zachary, stop this childishness," Stavros said.
"It is a simple question," Zachary said. "Just tell me what you see, Ashan."
"Your power is certainly more destructive, yes," Ashan said.
"Thank you," Zachary said. "That was all I needed to know." And with a snap of his fingers, he was gone, and so was Aaron.
"What was that about?" Stroma asked the old Ansari.
"I do not know," Ashan said. "I do not know the mind of a mage."
Aaron felt himself being pulled away from the room and a moment later he found himself in the forest, with Zachary standing in front of him.
"Son," the mage said. "You and I are long overdue for a good talk, but it seems we won't have much of a chance at that the way things are right now."
"What are you doing, Zachary," Aaron asked.
"It doesn't matter, Aaron. You might not like me, but you don't know me, and that's neither your fault nor mine. It isn't the fault of Stavros or his brother Tarnath either, who it seems did a pretty good job of raising you, maybe even better than I could have."
"Shouldn't we go back?" Aaron was frustrated that Zachary had chosen this time to talk to him about such things.
"And do what?" Zachary asked. "Kasha needs her rest and you need to focus on learning about your power and driving the shadow from you. You can learn some things from the old Ansari and from Stavros as well. Stroma might teach you a few things, but I don't trust him. As for the girl, Ehlena, she cares about you and would not intentionaly lead you astray, but she's got some ideas floating around in her head that I don't entirely agree with. I think it's the influence of that goddess she has become."
"Why are you telling me these things?" Aaron asked. "I already know that Ehlena cares about me and I don't blame Stavros or Tarnath. Stroma I'm not sure about, but he seems to want to help, and if the shadow will betray me then he is wise to keep some things from me."
"Good," Zachary said. "If things don't turn out, hopefully Stroma and the others will succeed."
"What things?" Aaron asked, getting a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"You'll know soon enough," Zachary said. "Just focus on understanding your own power and don't be afraid to make your own decisions. You have your own life to lead and people you care about. Don't let anything or anyone take those things away from you."
"Zachary," Aaron said. "If you want to talk, then let us talk."
"You are not ready to talk to me, and I am not ready to talk to you, Aaron," Zachary said. "At least not about the things that matter most. Besides, good, bad or otherwise, the things people do mean a whole lot more than the things they might say. That, my boy, is a simple truth I have learned, and the only things I truly regret are the lies I have told myself. Stay true to yourself, Aaron, and you can weather any storm, no matter what the world throws at you."
"What are you trying to say?" Aaron asked, not sure what he was getting at.
"It doesn't matter," Zachary said. "There are not enough words for me to tell you all the things I would like to say, and it would take a lifetime to explain. I only wish your mother could have had the chance to meet you."
Zachary smiled then, with a crack of power, he was gone. Aaron stood alone in the forest, wondering what had gotten into the mage, and why he wanted to say so many things to him all of a sudden. He made his way through the trees and saw Ehlena walking hurriedly toward him.
"Aaron," she said. "Where is Zachary?"
"He disappeared," Aaron told her. "He wanted to talk to me about a bunch of things then he left."
"What did he want to talk about?" Ehlena looked at him almost accusingly.
"He just told me to be true to myself and things like that," he said. "It was strange, like he was saying goodbye." Aaron did not realize until the words came out of his mouth that it was exactly what Zachary was doing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Cerric!" A loud, thunderous crash was followed by a man's voice, which echoed through the palace. "Cerric!"
The glass of wine Calexis had just placed on the table jumped and smashed on the floor. Whatever was happening, it was powerful enough to shake the entire palace. She exited the royal chambers and made her way along the hallway in the direction of the man's voice, which continued to yell for the king. She emerged onto a gallery that overlooked the wide, main stairs leading from the palace entrance to the royal court and she saw a man, standing in the open foyer below. He wore simple garb, loose fitting leather breeches, a simple shirt and a dark vest that had seen better days. All in all, he looked like a common peasant, except for the fireball that came flying from his hand and smashed into the interior walls of the palace. It was obvious the man was a mage, and a foolish one at that, to come looking for a fight with Cerric.
"Come out you sniveling coward!" he yelled.
"You seek the king?" Calexis asked, and a moment later, dozens of guards poured into the foyer, their weapons drawn and running toward the man, who made no move to run.
Zachary looked up at her, ignoring the guards.
"I seek the coward," he replied. "I presume you are his harlot of a queen?"
"I am the Queen of Xalla and Empress of three kingdoms," she said. "And who are you, who dares address me in such a manner?"
Zachary glanced at the guards, who had now surrounded him and he noticed that most of them had grey skin that appeared to be rotting. Some of them even had bone jutting through their cheeks and jaws, but all of them had steely grey eyes that glowed with power. The mage recognized death magic when he saw it and he knew that most of the soldiers were already likely dead, their life sucked out of them by whomever had cast the spell upon them, and Zachary had very few doubts who that might be. He swiped his hand toward the soldiers sending them hurtling away from him, their armored bodies smashing into ornately decorated stone walls of the vast foyer. With another wave, he sent the rest of them flying, but when he turned back in the direction of the first group, he saw that they had already begun to rise despite the many crushed skills and broken limbs. Zachary looked up at the queen with disgust.
"Calexis," he said. "I am glad to have found you first. I sought to look upon one who would forsake her own, to know the face of cruelty. Such beauty, and yet there is so little behind it."
"You speak nonsense, mage," Calexis yelled. "Who have I forsaken?"
"If you must ask such a thing, then you do not deserve an answer," Zachary said and he called forth a ball of fire and sent it blazing through the air toward her.
The flames crashed into the gallery, engulfing the place where she stood, but Zachary was surprised to see that she did not move. Instead she walked forward into the flames and leaned over the balcony and smiled at him.
"Your flames cannot touch me, mage," she said. "Your feeble powers cannot harm me."
"No?" Zachary cocked his head and smiled.
He reached out his hand and with his power he gripped the balcony where she stood. With a jerk of his hand the heavy stone slabs and the pillars that supported them violently broke. Calexis tried to run but the floor lurched and heaved wildly underneath her then began to plumment in a flurry of scorched stone, dust and flames. Zachary swept his hands around him again and the dead soldiers flew harder this time, smashing into the walls, their flesh and bones crushed to a pulp.
"What else?" Zachary asked, then he raised his head and yelled once more. "Cerric!"
"Zachary," Cerric said as he walked out from the large doors of the royal court at the top of the stairs. "I wondered when one of you might come to challenge me."
"What madness is this you have wrought, Cerric?"
"What madness?" Cerric looked down at the blood spattered ston
e walls and the flaming mess of stone where pieces of the gallery had fallen. "The only madness I see is you, abusing your powers and destroying the royal palace. This is precisely the reason the priesthood was created, to keep rogue mages like yourself from running amock."
As though on cue, tens of black robed mage priests emerged from doorways onto the gallery and a dozen more walked up behind Cerric, spreading out at the top of the staircase. Zachary could feel the enormous amount of power that they held as they called their magic and began hurtling attacks at him. Fire, lightning, black poisonous smoke, shards of metal and darts of poison flew toward him. Zachary fed power into the sphere around him, creating a barrier that he knew should be impenetrable and he swiped the air around him, sending a force of wind back toward the mages along with their attacks. Several of the mages shrieked in surprise as their own magic came back at them, but they too were protected by their own protective energies. Cerric did not move, and though Zachary could tell that he now harbored great power, he did not bother to protect himself from the magics that careened about the vast chamber. A shard of jagged metal flew toward him and he knocked it away with his hand as though swatting a fly.
"Impressive," he said. "I always knew you were powerful, Zachary. It is no wonder that you were the Head of the Council of Mages. Unfortunately, you were also a fool, so it was no surprise when you lost your position and the Council was disbanded."
"It was likely your scheming that caused those troubles, you and that snake, Dakar," Zachary said.
"Ah, yes," Cerric said. "Dakar has long been a faithful servant. I was angry with him when he did not kill you years ago, when he had the chance, but I am glad that he did not, since it will be so much more satisfying to see you die before me."
The mages attacked again, sending all manner of magics toward him. With every attack that hit the protective sphere around him, Zachary felt his power tremble. He was in no danger of falling to their magic, but he did not know how strong Cerric might be with the power of the god within him. Since the Council of Mages was no more and their laws no longer mattered, which was obvious by the stench of death magic emanating from the corpses and the mages, Zachary decided to use something he had learned long ago when he explored those darker powers. He shifted the energy of the sphere around him and began to absorb the pure energy from the attacks, while safely repelling their nature, his own power being fed with every one that hit him as he began to walk up the stairs toward Cerric, who simply watched, seemingly unconcerned.
"I see you have learned a few things," Cerric said.
"You'll find that I have learned a lot more than a few," Zachary said as he began to gather his power, adding the energy of the mages who continued to attack him. He topped the stairs and strode toward Cerric, who folded his arms, arrogantly nonchalant in the face of the mage, who moved toward him. Zachary was only a few steps away when he suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong, Zachary?" Cerric asked with a wide grin appearing on his face.
Zachary's face went pale and his power dissipated. He dropped to his knees and began to choke.
"What is this?" he gasped, his head reeling with nausea and the taste of sickness permeating his senses. Cerric stepped toward him, stopping a few paces away.
"You think I would not anticipate such a trick?" he asked, leaning down and smiling at the mage who looked up at him, his eyes now bloodshot and his face shifting from pale to a shade that was tinted with sickly purple. "Every mage in this room is an extension of me. I merely have to think something and they do as I command. And every secret, every bit of knowledge they have ever learned is mine for the taking. Do you think you were the only one who explored the darker magics? Your paltry knowledge is easy to see through, mage."
"You are a coward," Zachary said. "You cannot face me alone."
"Why would I bother when my servants will suffice," Cerric said. "And you may call me what names you wish for it matters not. Words like coward or villain have no meaning to me. All that matters is that you will be defeated at my hands and your power will become mine, like so many before you and those who will come after. I must thank you, though. You have provided me with a most excellent opportunity to test this magic."
"What have you done to me?" Zachary choked.
"You wanted power, so I gave it to you," Cerric told him. "Only, the energy these mages use is of a darker kind, something different from that with which you are accustomed." He conjured up a ball of orange fire in one of his hands, then another of some kind of energy that Zachary did not recognize, like the sickly dark color of a bruise tha swirled in his other hand. "You see, power has many forms, many colors, many facets and some combine beautifully, some conflict and create chaos, and others magnify, while there are some that simply consume."
Cerric tilted his hand and the dark, purplish ball of energy slid over to the fire in his other hand and the two swirled together, doubling in size, and Zachary saw that the darker power overcame the fire and consumed it completely, as though feeding from it.
"Now do you understand?" Cerric asked with a smile. "Your power becomes my power so easily, and this is a power that can destroy you just as easily as fire."
Cerric threw the spinning ball of purple darkness toward Zachary, but he was surprised when the mage reached up and grasped the energy, holding it in place. He took a step back as Zachary slowly rose to his feet, even though his flesh had turned grey and the energy of death magic coursed through him.
Zachary reached for the fire that burned deep within him, a power that was so much a part of him, so overwhelming and natural to him, that it had taken him years to even see, let alone master any other kind of energy. It was a power that he had dared not use, except sparingly, for such power unleashed would not be controlled, and the few times he had let it flow within him, had resulted in utter devastation. The dark energy that was eating away at him and flowing through his veins began to burn away as Zachary let the fire of his magic run hotter and the spinning purplish ball he held before him began to swirl with orange and yellow fire.
"Very impressive," Cerric said, taking another step back.
Both he and the mind of the god within him already knew that Zachary was exceptionally powerful, but very few over the ages had the power to burn the dark power that he commanded. The god, Kroma, was once able to do such a thing, and the elder god, Stroma could resist it well enough, but for a mage to have such power was amazing to behold. Cerric's thoughts whirled in his mind as memories of fighting a dark power shifted to fighting Kroma, which confused him since he was not sure for a moment who exactly he was within those memories. Cerric shook his head, pushing such thoughts away and he focused on the mage, who now glowed with orange and yellow fire as flames engulfed him and burned away the darkness almost completely.
"Your dark power cannot stand the light," Zachary said, more confidently, as he drew yet more power from the depths of energy that lived within him. The mages resumed their attacks, blasting at him now with darkness, which spidered across his flames, eating his energy almost as quickly as the fire burned.
"Where there is light, there is always shadow," Cerric said. "You cannot have one without the other."
"Not when the fire burns true," Zachary said through gritted teeth and drew more power, reaching as far as he had only once before.
The orange and yellow fire that blazed from every inch of him began to swirl in a vortex and Cerric stepped back a little further. He was beginning to feel the strain upon the mages as they continued casting dark energy at the blazing pillar of fire that Zachary had become. He closed his eyes for a moment and began to draw energy from the many mages who were not already at the palace replenishing those who were as they redoubled their attacks.
The dark swirls began to overwhelm Zachary and soon, he was completely engulfed in a dark miasma that whirled around him, smothering the light. The palace seemed grey and dark as even the light of the many lamps and torches that hung from the walls was drawn toward the darkn
ess that covered the mage, consuming his power and growing larger. Cerric knew he was taking a risk by concentrating that much darkness, which would only grow as Zachary's energy fed into it, but he was fairly certain his mages could absorb the power, though he could tell that a few of them were weakend to the point that they might not survive.
He glanced down at the sword on his hip, thinking that it might have been easier to use the weapon on the mage, but Zachary's power was somewhat peculiar in that he was able to affect things at a distance, which made fighting him physically somewhat difficult, even with a weapon, and he had already missed his opportunity, when he had the mage kneeling before him. Cerric reminded himself that he should not hesitate or indulge himself by wasting time gloating, since doing so served no real purpose. Still, it had given him some satisfaction to see the powerful mage kneel before him, with a look of fear on his face, especially considering how Zachary had treated him long ago. To see the arrogant mage, a man who the king had trusted more than his own brother, kneeling in fear and overwhelmed by his power was most satisfying indeed, and to know that Zachary's power would soon become his own made his revenge that much sweeter.
Cerric watched as the purplish black ball of energy tightened and began to solidify, which was something he had not expected. He reached out with his power and discovered, to his dismay, that its energy was disappearing, which was the opposite of what should be happening. With a thought, Cerric commanded the mage priests to stop their attack and he walked toward the egg shaped sphere that now surrounded Zachary and he curiously touched its surface with his hand. Even though he could feel no power emanating from it, its surface was warm to the touch and almost hot and then he saw a small crack appear in its surface. Cerric stepped back from the object and quickly created a sphere of protective energy around himself as the object cracked again and light began to spill from it.
With a deafening sound, it exploded. The intense blast knocked the many mages from their feet. Even with his own considerable powers, Cerric was pushed backward by the blast and he had to cover his eyes as a blinding, white light filled the vast chamber. A column of white, hot fire blasted upward, smashing through the ceiling and sending chunks of stone and plaster falling around it and the heat that radiated from it began to melt the solid stone walls, some of which burst into flame. Cerric added his own power to the sphere that protected him and felt his mages strenthen their own protections as he released them, but the heat that radiated from the pillar of fire was almost unbearable and Cerric stumbled backwards, feeling a tinge of fear, which was a sensation he had not felt in a very long time. Suddenly, silence.
Book of One 04: A Child of Fire Page 29