by Steven Drake
Darien sprinted to one corner of the throne room to gain distance, then stopped and turned. The golem had also stopped and seemed to be considering its strategy as well. Darien raised another fireball and sent it blazing towards the golem, but the thing simply opened a hole in its body, and the fireball passed through. For the moment, they were stalemated, and Darien understood the weakness of this opponent. While it was nearly invulnerable, it had limited means of attack. Water was certainly capable of exerting tremendous force, but that force was distributed. It lacked the solid impact power of stone, or the raw energy of fire. Without the electricity, the creature’s attack options had diminished greatly. Darien had an idea. It certainly had risks, but every battle did, and if he continued tossing fireballs, he would run out of magic long before he could hit the golem with enough of them to vaporize it entirely.
Darien charged towards the golem again, sword raised, a direct attack. The golem extended an arm, and again shot a spout of water towards him. Instead of dodging, Darien leapt over the attack, aiming his jump precisely so he would fall into the creature’s body. After all, now it was just water.
Darien prepared himself and took a deep breath. As expected, the creature launched a jet of water, but Darien had planned for that, aiming his jump so that he would fall from nearly straight overhead. All he had to do now was deflect enough water to keep it from smashing him into the ceiling. Darien focused a wall of wind that curled around his body and pushed the water around him. He continued to fall, slowly, but surely. Just a few more feet, and he could end the battle.
Unfortunately for Darien, this time, his plan backfired. He had planned to fall right into the golem’s main body, then raise a fire all around him, to burn the golem up in one great burst of energy, but he never got the chance. A scant few instants after finding himself immersed in water, the situation changed drastically. The pliant water froze solid, arresting his progress in an instant, pressing against his body on all sides, and sending him flying backwards encased in a block of ice. His downward momentum suddenly stopped, and the creature whipped the solidified ice into the far wall. Then Darien felt the ice growing, freezing around him, attempting to crush him into dust, or else freeze the blood in his veins.
Darien acted quickly, raising heat and fire all around him. He felt as his skin burned and blistered. He had expected that, but instead of using the attack to destroy his opponent, he was now forced to use it to save his own life. The ice melted, and he rolled away before the golem could refreeze it around him, but the damage had been done. He had expended a tremendous amount of magic, and burned himself badly, but gotten no closer to victory. He gasped, deeply inhaling to make up for several seconds of being choked by ice and water. The golem slowly regathered the ice and water into itself. Its sluggish movement had saved him for the moment.
The golem held itself steady, unmoving, and Darien made no move to attack. With no more ideas for offense, he focused on simply staying alive, defending himself until he thought of something. The golem continued to fire jets of water, which Darien now dodged more carefully, knowing the creature could freeze its projectiles in an instant. The golem seemed to be gaining speed, ever so slowly. As he continued to dodge, Darien tried to use his magic sight to see if he could tell what had changed. The magic of the throne room still felt stifled, but the effect had diminished considerably. Perhaps all the spellcasting was somehow reenergizing the room, or perhaps the golem itself had managed to do something to improve its chances. Darien had to think of something fast.
With few options left, Darien had to try a shadow void. He started small, a void just a few inches across. Hopefully, if he used several small attacks, he could avoid burning through the last of his reserves. Darien hurled the shadow void at the golem, expecting it to at least attempt to dodge, but it did not. It simply stood there, and waited, until the void had closed to within a few yards. A loud blistering crack rocked the air as a thin sphere of ice materialized around the void. Darien’s focus was cut off instantly, and the sphere of ice dropped to the ground like a stone. The void exploded, sending up clouds of dust and bits of broken floor, but doing no noticeable damage.
The golem had countered the shadow void in a way Darien had never even considered. Such a precise technique. Had the golem fought an opponent like him before, or was the golem some kind of magical device? Perhaps it was given the technique by whoever created it. Whoever these elves were, they were clearly the enemies of Arcanus Sarenna. The gashes in the wall had clearly been made by the Demon’s Blade. They had been prepared to face an enemy with the same abilities. Darien felt desperation building. He couldn’t beat this enemy, not when it had been designed to fight someone with precisely these abilities.
Pain suddenly flared in his wound. Darien breathed deeply, and clutched at his right side. The golem just stood there, waiting, patiently. It could afford to wait now. Time was against Darien the Executioner, and that time was rapidly running out. He had used a significant portion of his remaining magic, and all he had managed to do was cloud the water of his opponent with a bit of dust. Whatever he tried next, it would be his last attempt, unless he decided to use the Demon’s Blade, though against this enemy, that might not help.
As he contemplated his end, and prayed desperately for the safety of the woman still entranced in the other room, Darien marveled at the thing that he now believed would shortly claim his life. It seemed to be animated entirely by magic, dependent on the enchanted landscape for its energy. Bringing it to the throne room had been enough to slow it, but not stop it. Suddenly, as Darien focused on the swirling clouds of dust that circulated in the golem’s body, he got a last desperate idea. Golems were usually made from earth, for obvious reasons. The solidity made for an easy and effective weapon, but this creature had been made to use other elements, water, ice, electricity. Hopefully, there had been a reason for that choice.
He ran forward. For this to work, he needed to be close. He dodged torrents of water and shards of ice that the golem sent outward. He swung his sword, not wasting energy on heating it. Thankfully, the creature didn’t realize, and continued to dodge the sword strikes. As he did so, he channeled subtle winds that kicked up the centuries of collected dust and funneled them into the area of the golem. As he circled the creature, still too fast for it to strike, the water clouded further. The golem’s strikes again started slowing. Moving solid earth, even in the form of the tiniest particles of dust, required more magic than moving water. It was a simple law of magic that he hoped would work to his advantage.
It was not enough. Darien had managed to get most of the dust in the room collected in the swirling waters. The creature was sluggish, but still formidable, so Darien moved to the next part of his last desperate gambit. He focused his magic on the floor, and a spike of earth propelled upwards into the watery body. The golem barely noticed, as he had hoped. Just before he withdrew his focus from the spell, Darien shook the earth spike, shattering it into pieces. As he withdrew his focus, instead of sinking back into the ground, the shattered pieces of earth and stone got caught and sucked into the churning waters, just as he had hoped. Darien repeated the process again, then a third time, then a fourth, focusing on getting as much earth as possible caught in the golem’s body while using as little of his remaining reserves of magic as possible. With each spike of earth, the water clouded further, becoming dark and brown, and the golem’s movements slowed with each chunk of earth added.
After four more earth spikes, Darien moved easily around the sluggish creature. Its watery body was now so filled with dirt that it could no longer be properly called water. Instead, it had solidified sufficiently that it behaved more like a viscous oozing mud. Two more spikes of earth, and the golem could barely move at all. It raised an arm, but the arm snapped in half as a clump of mud dropped to the floor. The golem drooped, and sunk into the floor, becoming little more than a pile of gooey and disgusting brown mud.
Darien focused his mage sight to look for the
core of the creature. Like all spells, it had to have a point of focus, and dispelling that focus should destroy it, at least temporarily. Darien found what he was looking for, trapped in the center of the ball of mud. Darien waded into the brown ooze, which continued to coil about his feet and creep up his legs, still attempting to oppose him but moving so much mass, it had nothing left to do any damage. Darien plunged a hand into the spot where the focus lay, then focused a single shadow void.
Pain flared up on his right side, and his vision darkened for a moment, but he held on to consciousness. The void consumed the mud around the focus, and then blinked out of existence, dragging the last of the golem’s magic with it. The remaining mud dropped limply to the floor with a disgusting, squelching, splat. Darien breathed a sigh of relief, and doubled over in pain.
Exhausted from the battle, burned all over his body, and now in unbelievable pain from his wound, Darien staggered out of the throne room and back towards Mirisa. In his current state, he couldn’t do much for her, but he could at least watch. After a rest, he could make another attempt at disconnecting her from the strange crystal.
Chapter 33: Finally at Rest
“How do I get back?” Mirisa frantically asked the image of her father. She had gotten the most terrible premonition as soon as she had thought of Darien. She had regained just enough awareness of her physical body to realize he no longer held her, and that bothered her. He had been so worried, and she had been comforted by the fact that he was watching so diligently. What could have made him let go?
“Please, tell me, how do I leave this place, this memory stone? I have to hurry.”
“Magic is a power of the heart more than the mind. Focus on something that you care deeply for in your own world, a beloved pet, a good friend, a lover, even just your favorite place. Anchor your mind there, and the memories will fade.”
Mirisa did as she had been told, she thought of Zitane, then Garok, and the effect started to fade, but not quickly enough. She centered her mind instead on Darien, the urgency rising as she worried he might have somehow been injured, or collapsed from weakness. Perhaps he had tried to break her connection to this stone and something had gone wrong. She needed to get out quickly. She felt her body rapidly return, then she felt energy suddenly rush into her all at once, everything that had been pulled from her earlier. The sudden influx of power pushed her back and finally broke her contact with the memory stone. She staggered away from the pedestal with the bowl, gasping for breath. She heard a loud click from the podium where the bowl had been, but she was too focused on Darien.
Terror gripped her as she saw Darien slumped against one wall. He looked terrible, bearing several cuts as well as visible burns. She felt almost no energy coming from him. His aura burned so brightly she feared he had burned himself out entirely. She raced over to him, terrified that he might be dying. Relief flooded her when she touched his face and felt warmth and life. She sighed deeply and loosed her healing magic. She felt the burns all over his body, and the several cuts. She healed them all, and again tried to give Darien some of her energy. It worked. She felt his strength returning, and he groaned and reached up to rub his forehead. Tears of joy rolled down her face and she giggled like a child.
He opened his eyes slowly, and showed immediate confusion.
“Miri, are you alright?” Darien asked, “Why are you crying? What happened?”
“I’m crying because I thought you were dying, you stupid stubborn man.” She grabbed him without thinking and pressed his cheek against the top of her chest, then settled her chin on top of his head, which seemed to be damp for some reason. How did he get all wet, she asked herself?
“Well, I’m not, so can you let me go please.” He sounded irritated, and it made Miri feel wonderful. She let him go and sat on the floor in front of him.
“What happened while I was in there?” Miri asked.
Darien sighed and explained. Miri covered her mouth in shock as he described his desperate battle. When he finished, she grabbed him in another embrace, squeezing as hard as she could, unable to stop herself. He made some irritated grumbling noises, but at least he didn’t push her away. Finally, when she sensed his irritation growing too powerful, she relented.
“I’m glad you’re alright, too,” Darien said as he stared upwards, unable to meet her gaze, blushing very slightly but noticeably. “What happened to you?”
Now it was Miri’s turn to tell her story, so she related everything that she had seen in the memory stone. As soon as she mentioned the name of Varias, however, Darien stopped her.
“Did you say Varias?” he asked. “Are you completely sure that was his name?”
“Yes, I’m sure. My father used it several times,” Miri confirmed. “Why, is it important?”
Darien laughed a half mad cackle and stared up at the ceiling.
“What is it?” Miri pressed.
“So that’s how he knew about you, and about all this,” Darien said. “That explains everything.”
“What, explains what?” Miri asked with escalating frustration. “What are you not telling me?”
“Varias is the true name of my old master, the Demon King, the man who finally succeeded in killing Arcanus Sarenna. He ordered his Shades not to attack you because he must still feel some loyalty to his old friend, despite everything else that has happened since.”
“You mean?” Miri asked, and Darien nodded.
“Yes, it has to be the same man you saw,” Darien said. “He’s not the same now,” Darien added. “You wouldn’t recognize what he’s become.”
Miri nodded, somehow not as surprised as she probably should have been. Then she finished the rest of her story. Darien listened intently, nodding here and there. When she was finished, he leaned back against the wall. Miri turned and sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. She wanted to be close to him, and thankfully, he didn’t argue.
“This answers so many questions,” he finally said again. “I’m glad we came.”
“Even after that thing almost killed you?” Miri said. “I’m happy I was able to learn where I come from, but if it had cost your life, I think… I think I would wish we had never come.” Darien’s breathing slowed to almost nothing, and she felt a sudden uneasiness from him. “But everything worked out all right, so, thank you for helping me find all this. We can probably learn so much from that stone,” she added, and his breathing returned to normal. As she looked toward the crystal bowl of the memory stone, she noticed something different. A part of the podium beneath the bowl had fallen away, revealing a secret compartment.
“What’s that?” Darien asked. “I’m sure that compartment wasn’t there before.”
“It wasn’t.” Miri said. “It must have opened when I activated the crystal, or after. Let’s see what’s in it.”
Miri stood up, but Darien remained. She looked down at him curiously.
“I’m not going near that thing again.” Darien said. “Last time it attacked me and summoned a monster. I don’t want to fight that thing a second time.” Miri nodded and went to explore herself, and inside the compartment, she found a thin book, leather covered, bound with a glowing twine. The book looked immaculate, each edge straight, each corner perfect. It glowed with magic, enough that it seemed to light itself. Miri picked up the book, and slowly read the ancient silver letters on the cover, Here Follows the Journal of Argas Algalon, Lord of Albenar, Master Artificer, Forger of the Demon’s Blade, Last Archmage of the Fallen Blood.’ This had belonged to her father, and had been meant for her. She carried it back over to Darien with wide eyes.
“What is it?”
“It’s my father’s journal.” Miri said, as she grasped it and held it against her chest. “He must have left it for me.”
“Well, at least the Shades didn’t get everything of value.” Darien said. “That could contain secrets of magic that haven’t been seen in millennia.”
“I don’t care about that.” Miri hadn’t even though
t of it, but now that she did, Darien was right, though that still wasn’t her primary interest. “Well, I guess I would like to read about that, but I just hope it will let me know more about my father.”
Mirisa leaned against the wall and slid down, coming to rest leaning against Darien. She lay her head on his shoulder and sighed. “What do we do now that we know so much.”
“Knowing who the Demon King really was doesn’t change what he’s doing now. We have to stop the Shades from gaining control of Catarina. We know who you are. We know what the Shades took, and we know how they knew about this. We have our answers, so we should get back to the others soon.”
“Yes, but can’t we rest for a little while longer? I’m so tired.” It was a lie. She only wanted to enjoy this closeness while she could. She knew it wouldn’t last, and Darien would return to his normal aloof and distant self before long. She just wanted a few minutes to imagine that he wasn’t the bearer of a horrible curse and an unspeakably evil weapon. She wanted to imagine that he was just a man she had found on the mountain, and nursed back to health, a man who had saved her from a miserable life bound to someone she despised. Just for a few minutes, she wanted to feel his body next to hers and forget everything else.
“Alright, I would have thought I’d be more tired than you, but we can rest as long as you want,” Darien said. Miri smiled and sighed deeply, then snuggled her body against his, enjoying the feel of his aura, cool and calm as a cloudless sky. She would enjoy this rest, as long as she possibly could.