Origin Mage

by John Forrester

  "I understand you believe you have the power and knowledge to handle the situation, but the fact that you have been imprisoned by the priests of Yavreel causes me to doubt your words. Unless you can correct my way of thinking?"

  "We were surprised and tricked. Caught defenseless after a wild night of revelry. We had no star fragments or relics to aid us." Crar sighed at the memory. "This time we possess the initiative. And within the temple of Yavreel lie many relics and star fragments. Indeed, the ancient Skull of Xanxes lies above."

  "A giant crystal skull with red rubies?" said Mara.

  "Yes, the very one. You have seen it?" the creature's eyes looked hopeful.

  "Taken by the priests only a while ago. I presume they used it for the battle above."

  The creature gave a growl of anger. "Then we must not waste time. They will be searching for more relics and fragments if the skull fails to provide them the advantage against the Nameless. The priests only know where a few of them are. They will come to us to ask for the location of additional ones."

  The creature's eyes stared off in the darkness behind Talis. A shiver of fear ran through him.

  "They are coming."

  27. Overwhelming Odds

  Lord Aurellia had never seen the Naemarian horde fight with such a fury. The newly tainted citizens of Navria flooded the streets, eyes vicious and hungry. They charged up the temple steps only to be rebuffed by blast after blast of the defenders' spells. Bodies flew everywhere, spraying blood and gore, painting the once pure streets red.

  The sickening scene brought a smile to the dark lord’s face. He had missed all the violence and mayhem. This brought him a measure of satisfaction, but it also brought him pain. If Caisa succeeded then he would fail to find the freedom he so greatly desired. He would need a plan to secure his freedom.

  The priests of Yavreel were fading fast against the overwhelming force. Rikar, his once young and bungling apprentice, had risen to be the star of the battle. Very strange, thought Aurellia, that this fool could possess such power and knowledge. It was only through his connection with the Naemarians. Aurellia knew this and the fact terrified him. He absolutely didn’t trust the Naemarians. They would promise anything but their words were worthless. They had to be eventually neutered.

  One healing spell cast could easily cure Rikar of his affliction, and prevent the ascension of Naemarian power. But Aurellia dared not do that just yet. Better to wait a while until the battle against the priests was certain. Find a time that was right. Not now, not yet. A little while longer.

  "They are losing," hissed Caisa. His old, fanatical-eyed master glared at the battlefield from their position atop a tall building. "It won't be long until we seize the temple."

  He gave her a bland smile. The battle had indeed changed since Aurellia had found Rikar. So much for their night of hopelessness and drowning in sorrow. Once he’d located his apprentice, he forced the boy to be his intermediary to the Naemarians. They had agreed to a temporary truce. Of course Caisa had been amenable to the situation. Revenge against the last remaining old master in exchange for giving up on the Origin World. It seemed so easy, but Aurellia knew it never was.

  Caisa claimed she had no desire to rule this world, not after finding out from a captured priest that all the old masters had been slain, all except one. The priest had said the old master was imprisoned deep underneath the temple in the catacombs. They would kill the creature, imprison the soul, and utterly decimate the soul’s energy, thus exacting her revenge against the last old master.

  But the question remained. Would Caisa ever release him from his vows to her? After they succeeded this day, which it seemed they would, what was next? Another foolish journey across the stars? Or would Caisa renege on her promise to the Naemarians and counter-attack? Likely the Naemarians were expecting such an action and were prepared for any such eventuality. Taking Rikar out of the equation was probably the one thing that could stop them.

  The priests of Yavreel had brought a powerful relic onto the battlefield, one that Caisa had recognized. The gigantic Skull of Xanxes. For a while, Aurellia had thought the battle had turned and their enemies would win the day. The red ruby light had shone and filled the defenders with a radiant, renewed energy. It had come close to Aurellia needing to call a retreat. But Rikar had done it. Through a reckless show of willpower, he'd focused his attacks on the skull and cracked it, ruining its power.

  The battle had swung in their favor ever since.

  "Remind me why we are holding back?" Caisa turned to stare at Aurellia.

  Did they have to go through this again? Aurellia sighed, motioning at Rikar. "The boy is exhausted. We should let him rest some more. Or would you rather see him burn up, our advantage destroyed? Even someone with his Starwalker composition has his limits. We should let the Naemarian forces on the ground weaken the enemy for a while."

  "Bah. Since when were you such a conservative general? We almost have them."

  "It's called experience." Something the Nameless clearly lacked. "Never lose your strongest pieces in a foolish show of strength. Unless you have a better idea?"

  Caisa waved him away, scoffing. "Perhaps I should have left you alone to rot there on that world. You seem bitter and distant this entire trip. Your heart simply is not in it."

  Aurellia turned and glowered at her. "You don't say? And here I thought that because of my loyalty and passion to you I returned. That I was anxious to travel across the universe to a world I've never been and care little about. To top it off, here I am, risking my life, for an old, foolish oath of revenge. How did that turn out for you last time? You spent a year festering in the bowels of that underworld.”

  "But think of the glory. Think of the riches and the treasures that we'll find underneath the temple. Unlimited power, Lord Aurellia. Isn't that what you crave? You were dying there on your home world. Dying of boredom."

  Again, the Nameless knew his weakness. He had been bored on Vellia. His brother proved utterly tiresome and meddling. He had had to deal with politics every day. He missed snuffing the life out of innocent mortals. Today had been gratifying and entertaining. Especially watching the chaos ensue and the violence spread. The transformation from a perfectly well-organized and peaceful society into one of utter ruin. Lives lost. Hopes crushed. Ambitions unrealized. It had been two days of pure bliss.

  If only the bliss could continue. But in a future that existed without Caisa. Could he arrange to have her destroyed? Body and soul, for only the body would not be enough to utterly defeat her. If only there was a way. Then he could continue on his journey, perhaps back to the Starwalker sanctuary. He could use them. Instead of a journey of discovery, it would be a journey of destruction. A never-ending stream of violence.

  After leaving Vellia he realized how much he missed all this. The mayhem. The screaming and wailing and gnashing of teeth.

  There was more for him to enjoy. He watched a mob of Naemarian-infested aliens and humans rush up the stairs of the temple and overwhelm a priest. They literally ripped out the man's throat. More poured in and covered the body like ants. They lapped up his blood and feasted on his flesh. A crazed barbaric mess.

  This. He missed this. This insanity. What had he been thinking? To retire to such a boring, bland world? Besides, he could never share power with his brother. Not for very long. In the time he'd spent on Vellia, he'd grown to understand this fact. He had been plotting to overthrow his kingdom and seize control of Vellia.

  There could only be one ruler, one king, one leader. One master. In this picture, there was no Caisa, no Nameless, no master of Aurellia. He'd grown far too fond of his freedom and independence. Her escape from the Ruins of Elmarr had been pure torture. It had to end. Once and for all.

  In Rikar, Aurellia thought of a way. It was only a question of timing.

  And a question of luck.

  28. A Difficult Freedom

  There was a cool wind that came blowing through the suffocating heat of the catacom
bs. It brought a measure of relief to the otherwise nightmarish place. It also announced the arrival of the priests. Or at least that’s what the daggers warned Mara.

  “Quickly, before they arrive. Break the shackles. You don’t want to face them on your own.” Crar’s voice, so usually calm and confident, sounded urgent and rushed.

  “What assurances can you provide us besides the vow spoken to your gods?” Talis studied the creature with a sober intensity that made Mara proud of him. Regardless of the tense situations he faced, he always somehow managed to keep a cool head.

  “We already swore a sacred vow, what more do you want? Besides, what other choice do you have?” It was Jorem’s voice this time, crafty and smooth. “If the priests win, you still lose. If the Nameless wins, then you lose as well. Either way you are doomed to never return home.”

  Crar interrupted. “Trust the sober weight of our words. At this point, you have no other choice. Break the shackles now or you will fail. For that matter, we all will fail. The priests will be here soon!”

  In a split second decision, Mara darted forward, eyes aimed at the shackle. Talis opened his mouth to cry out in warning, but she had already struck the blow. The shackle at the creature’s ankle shattered under the power of Mara’s blade.

  At the breaking of the shackles, the creature’s strength seemed renewed. The big, hulking beast wrenched the other three chains from their mountings, the confining magic broken. With three strong blows it smashed the shackles against the stone floor, freeing itself.

  The creature stood tall, stretching out its arms in a victorious pose. It gave a fierce roar and stomped its feet.

  Mara took several steps back, afraid to be caught underfoot. But the creature had stopped its rampage and now scanned past them, searching in the dark.

  “Get behind me,” said the creature, Crar’s voice deep and strong. “They have heard us. Soon, they’ll be here.”

  Talis grabbed Mara’s arm and led her around the massive beast. It stood about fifteen feet tall, no longer hunched over and chained. Nikulo jogged around and stood next to Talis, Charna joining them, the golden light from the lynx’s eyes causing the inky shadows to swivel around in the dark catacombs. Mara commanded the daggers to cause them to go invisible, and the light from the lynx vanished.

  Darkness returned. Voices up ahead, calling out, asking who was down here.

  Soon came the sound of heels striking against stone. Silver light bubbled up, illuminating the gray mist that appeared like a funeral shroud. Four figures strode closer, their steps cautious, eyes glancing around in the mist.

  They stopped when they caught sight of the creature. The priests’ eyes flared open in terror at noticing that it was unchained. It stood even taller now, looming menacingly over the priests. They took a step back, hands outstretched in defense.

  “The tables have turned, have they not?” Crar’s low voice said. “I’m not sure whether to crush your skulls or cast a spell and shrink you all to the size of mites. Choices, choices. What shall we do?”

  “Pulverize their skulls!” cried Jorem, his crazed voice filled with delight. The creature raced a giant fist and slammed it into the other palm, as if to emphasize the point. “We’ll have a regular blood bath. Won’t that be nice? A rich sacrifice to the old gods.”

  The priests turned to run, but found themselves knocked to the ground by a long sweep of the creature’s arm. It picked them up two at a time and they dangled, screaming, while the creature opened its mouth.

  “I’m feeling hungry,” Jorem said, and tossed a priest into its mouth.

  Mara cringed after she heard the crunch of the skull and the wet explosion of the priest’s brain. The creature chomped and chewed in vigorous satisfaction.

  The other priests howled even more at seeing the barbaric act. One tried to cast a spell, but the creature chewed off its hands as if they were a snack. Silver light from the priest’s hands spilled into the creature’s mouth and swirled about, ineffective at harming the beast. The remaining priests fainted, bodies going limp, and soon they were also consumed by the creature’s voracious appetite.

  Luckily darkness overcame them again, sparing them of the bloody sight. But Mara felt revolted at hearing the crunching of bones and the smacking sounds as the creature chewed the alien priests. After a while, it sighed in satisfaction and belched.

  “Now we feel much better.” Jorem’s voice was content for the first time. “Our first meal in over a thousand years. We are free from the torment of living off only the power of magic.”

  “We weren’t really here most of the time, though were we?” Crar sounded thoughtful and content. “For most of the duration of our imprisonment we spent visiting the other world. The world of dreams and endless adventure.”

  “Speak for yourself, that place was pure torture for me,” Jorem said, his voice angry. “Enough of this. Where have the children and the cat gone? Have they disappeared? Don’t be afraid, little sparrow. We won’t eat you. We don’t find humans all that appetizing. Besides, we are quite full now. The alien priests were quite delicious.”

  Frightened of the hideous creature, Mara wasn’t about to show herself. But she did instruct the daggers to hide the location of their voices, and decided to speak.

  “We are still here,” she said. “Though for now we’ll stay invisible, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” said Crar, his voice unperturbed. “We can understand you’d likely be scared by our display of violence. You see, we weren’t particularly fond of those priests. They were the usurpers of our power and our jailers for these many years. They deserve to be brutally executed.”

  “And we were hungry.” Jorem sounded contrite, though his voice still held an edge of madness.

  The creature snapped its fingers and summoned a ball of eerie green light that banished the darkness around them. The bloodstained stone floor shone garish under the light. Bending down, it sniffed the ground, nostrils flaring like a hunting dog. It raked the floor with its hands, eyes intensely searching for something.

  “What are you looking for?” Mara asked.

  “Aha!” Jorem interrupted, and displayed a black stone fragment to no one in particular.

  “A star fragment?” Talis said, taking a step closer to the creature.

  “Indeed you are correct. And look here, we’ve found another one.” Crar seemed delighted at his discovery. “Are you magicians, perhaps? In need of a fragment? See here, we’ve discovered a third one.”

  “I’m not a spell caster,” said Mara. “My two friends are blessed with the power of magic and both have star fragments of their own.”

  “Is that so? Well, we are very glad to hear they possess some semblance of the art.” Jorem’s voice sounded haughty. “But, pardon us for saying it, we sense a distinct lack of knowledge and power from your two friends. At least from what we could sense before. It might be their youth that biases us to reach that conclusion. Or it could have been the fact you agreed to hide behind us when the priests came. Tell us, how have you fared in battle against the priests of Yavreel?”

  “We haven’t,” Talis said, sounding ashamed. “We’ve watched them fight and never dared oppose them.”

  “Hmmm… We’ll have to remedy that situation if you are to be of any use in the upcoming battle. They won’t make it easy for us, not like these four. The amateurs. Now, if we are to be allies, it will be necessary for us to see one another. Are we indeed allies? We have already sworn oaths not to harm you.”

  Mara hesitated, glancing at Talis’ ghostly image. He shrugged as if to say, What do we have to lose? They had to trust someone. They couldn’t go it alone, not while the battle raged above. But a part of her was still wary of the creature inhabited by two old masters.

  “We agree to be allies.” Talis nodded to Mara, and she told the daggers to eliminate their invisibility. “But don’t expect any alliance to be permanent. All we care about is returning to our world, not restoring the rule of this place
to you.”

  The creature gave a rumbling, belly laugh. “Why would we need your help to regain power over the Origin World? You’ve already done enough and broken the magic of the shackles. For this, we are greatly in your debt. But trust us, we are allied to you only temporarily.” Crar’s deep voice sounded irritated. “In this situation, you must learn a few spells to defend yourself. That is it. Nothing more. Once the situation above is under control, we will fulfill the obligations of our debt to you and arrange for your return. If you behave yourself.”

  Nikulo snorted. “No one ever accused us of being well-behaved. In fact, quite the opposite. We are who you have to learn to work with.”

  “Ah, disobedient students.” Jorem sighed wistfully. “My favorite kind. A sentiment after my own heart. ’Tis one of the reasons I hate the smug Crar with a passion. All his pomp and formality have created such a distaste for his very existence. If you only knew the depths of my misery this last thousand years. Can you imagine, being forced to interact with such an arrogant prick?”

  “If you hate each other so much,” said Mara. “Then why don’t you cast a spell and separate?”

  “Alas, but we do not find ourselves in the possession of suitable bodies to house our souls.” It sounded like Crar very much looked forward to the idea. “But soon enough, we shall. Though we will need a certain relic that resides here in the temple. It is necessary for us to complete the separation.”

  “There is another problem,” whispered Jorem. “Once we leave the body of this creature, there will be a period where we are incapacitated, slumbering in our new bodies. Then the creature will return to its natural state.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. What exactly is its natural state?” Nikulo said.

  “It’s a wild, brutal beast. The worst kind you can imagine. It hungers constantly for the taste of flesh. And it will go after anything it encounters.”

  “Can it be tamed?” Nikulo’s eyes lit up as if he had an idea. “I happen to know a thing or two about controlling the minds of humans and creatures.”