Sun Mage

by John Forrester

  For a long while it was silent. Talis coughed, feeling the deadly air slither into his lungs. Shadows danced above him in the mist. He cringed, scanning the sky. Thousands of dark shapes dove towards them.

  14. ZAGROS

  “Look!” Mara pointed at a flock of wights, wings flapping angrily. They dove at the bodies, and pecked and tore at their flesh, swallowing whole limbs and heads in a feverish feeding frenzy. Rikar cried out and wept, as if imagining his father consumed by the foul creatures. Talis gripped his arms, feeling the convulsions wrack through Rikar’s body.

  Soon Talis heard a cacophony of pounding, like the stampede of bulls across a vast plain. Turning, he spotted packs of silvery spectral hounds charging through the mist, unnaturally large eyes glowing an eerie yellow-white. Luminescent saliva flew from their foaming mouths as they sped towards the bodies. In a chaotic rush, the wights beat their way up into the air, some too slow and caught by the rabid jaws of the hounds. The sleek canines devoured the bodies in a rage so savage like it was the first time they’d fed in a thousand years.

  One hound, the pack leader, lifted its head. A plump body dangled from its mouth. The beast sniffed and stared at them. Talis froze, feeling his skin drench with sweat. Their adventure into the Underworld had turned sour. Talis, Rikar, Mara, and Nikulo backed away. Talis thought of fleeing away from this place, a futile desire to keep his life intact.

  A shrill whistle sounded and the hounds winced and whimpered at the call. They trotted begrudgingly back to where they came, clearing the field. Except the pack leader stayed. Eyes still fixed on Talis. A low growl came from the creature’s throat as it stalked closer.

  Lightning and thunder struck at the same time, and an enormous form appeared high in the mist, towering over the field. Eyes golden and blazing. A canine face with the chiseled body of a man. Talis stared at the figure. Here was Zagros, Lord of the Underworld.

  Zagros surmised the battlefield, standing fifty times taller than Talis. The god let out a shrill yelp and hiss, and the wreck of slain bodies stirred, slowly rising and reassembling back to their unmolested form.

  Sorcerers bounded close, shoving each other to assert their position atop knolls and clefts. Their faces beamed at their master’s power. With the dead fully formed, the massive army turned and faced Zagros. They bowed low.

  Zagros lifted a ruby-tipped scepter. “I hold the power over the dead, and once again bestow the gift of animation.”

  The dead cheered, raising their hands in a gesture of victory, as if the gift from their master had been most gracious. Talis thought the whole scene nefarious.

  Rikar had fallen to his knees. “Where are you? Where is my father.” He shivered, gazing with teared eyes over the vast throng.

  Talis felt a withering gaze upon them, like a foul wave crashing down.

  Rikar looked up and stared into the terrible eyes of Zagros.

  “Rise, mortal, get off your knees.” Zagros eyed Rikar with disgust.

  With a jolt, Rikar collected himself up, as if not noticing he’d fallen prostrate.

  “We have plans to discuss.” Zagros flapped his ears. “Plans that involve you in the world above. My loyal subjects tell me you have chosen well, coming here to visit me, a choice few mortals would ever dare make.” The god chuckled knowingly, casting a glance at the mass of dead clambering attentively below. “Your father is not here. Some consolation I expect. He is in another place, on another march. I can’t say it’s better than this.”

  Rikar opened his mouth then closed it, as if thinking the better of it. Instead he bowed his head in submission.

  Zagros sniffed, smirking at Rikar’s reaction. “You are wise to hold your tongue, boy.” Lifting his canine head toward the sky, Zagros growled. “Forces are rising and falling in the world above, the balance of power has shifted. I am in need of one so dedicated as yourself. There is a question on your lips, speak, mortal.”

  “And the fair seas?”

  “The fair seas will bring bountiful pleasure to your father…a respite from the Grim March.” Zagros grinned, his lip curling as if he knew a hideous truth.

  Rikar bowed his head in submission.

  “Good. Now you must touch your forehead with your left index finger and stare into my eyes.” Zagros extended his ruby-tipped scepter. “Feel the binding pact of power between you and your god.”

  Talis reached out to stop him, but Rikar obeyed Zagros. Lines of blood-red and black energy poured from Zagros’s eyes, spilling through the ether into Rikar. A wild charge struck his body, sending him into violent convulsions. The power sent waves of blackness rippling under his skin. A mess of foul liquid shot out of Rikar’s mouth. He gasped and heaved on his hands and knees.

  Zagros frowned. “You’re not of royal blood?” The god made an irritated clicking sound. “I require royal blood to release your father of his pain and suffering.” He shifted his gaze to Mara. “And who is this? I smell blood pure and strong. Is she of royal blood?”

  Talis bristled, feeling icy chills sweep down his spine. Not Mara. He couldn’t let Zagros touch her. He stepped in front of her. “I’m of royal blood.”

  Zagros inhaled for a long time. “Ah, indeed you are. And your brother…he rests along the fair seas. I think you will suffice.”

  The god extended his scepter towards Talis, but Talis jerked back. “I didn’t volunteer to sacrifice myself.”

  Zagros laughed a deep, full-bellied laugh. “I don’t mean to kill you, either. All I require is a bit of your blood. I promise it will be painless.”

  Talis studied the god’s face, uncertain after what had happened to Rikar. Zagros had a gleam in his eye that made him frightened to the bone.

  “Don’t do it.” Mara pulled Talis back.

  “Please,” Rikar mumbled. “Please do this for me. If I was ever your friend, help save my father.”

  “You’ve been a terrible friend.” Nikulo crossed his arms.

  “Why should Talis risk anything to help you?” Mara said. “Your father was an awful person…he put a curse on old man Deresh.”

  “My father was a good man!” Rikar still convulsed as if struck with palsy.

  “Ah, how I love mortals bickering so.” Zagros spread his hands wide. “All this squabbling leads to war and death. And my realm grows. Young mortal, what do you care to lose a drop of your blood? You’ll make more. Have you no pity on your friend?”

  “I only care about helping my city.” Talis didn’t trust Zagros, something in the twinkling mischievousness of his eyes made him wary.

  Zagros curled his lips. “Then the girl…she has royal blood also. I must have a blood sacrifice. Do you living mortals dare presume to enter my domain without cost? All four of you participated in the ritual to access the jaws of death. You each may come with different purposes, but there is a cost. And the cost is royal blood.”

  The chills prickling across Talis’s skin turned into a morbid cold. He could feel the festering stench of this place seep into his body, like a tangle vine easing its way around his neck. He regretted coming here. The cost was too great.

  “Draw my blood.” Talis extended his wrist. He forced himself to stay calm, not wanting to show fear.

  Zagros withdrew a snake-like dagger from his waist, and pricked Talis’s thumb. Talis went numb. His eyes glimpsed flashes of gaunt, pale faces, of slithering creatures, of the symbols of death now imprinted on his soul. He felt sick and weak and agitated. The blood welled up on the tip. Zagros mumbled words and a cloud of smoke formed around the blood. Soon the cloud evaporated into the air, and the blood and the wound were gone.

  “There now…quick and painless as promised.”

  Zagros closed his eyes and raised his hands to the sky. Lightning bolts scintillated into his fingertips. Then more came, until it was a mad explosion of thunder. Soon a cloud formed above Zagros’s hands, a grey cloud like the one that had consumed Talis’s blood. The cloud grew bigger with each massive lightning strike.

  Slowl
y the cloud evaporated into a fine mist. Talis could see a shimmering blob of blood. It morphed and thickened and solidified into a shape. Eyes of fire opened. Piercing and hungry. Claws stretched out, as if eager to pierce and shred. The body was the color of dried blood, mottled and covered with sores.

  A demon was born. Brought to life with Talis’s own blood.

  15. ROYAL BLOOD

  The demon stared at Talis like it was curious to meet its maker. Talis was filled with a mixture of morbid curiosity and terror. The demon’s eyes looked like his own. It held a hungry look, like it wanted to consume all flesh. Its body tried to reach towards Talis, but it stopped as if some invisible barrier surrounded him.

  “Go forth and devour.” Zagros snapped his fingers and electricity shot out into the abomination. The demon charged off at a ferocious speed and disappeared into the pale fog.

  Talis felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to vomit. All those years the Rites of Royal Blood performed in Naru had created demons to add to Zagros’s army? And now Talis sensed a connection with the demon created with his own blood. He could feel its hunger and power and fear. It was made from him, and in some strange way possessed bits of his own character.

  Zagros chuckled, as if sensing Talis’s realization. “Be gone with you, young royal. The Underworld is no place for you. Do not rest in this land, for the forces of death will take you. Save that precious blood for another day, for another Rite.”

  Talis clenched up. He shook his head, determined never to give his blood again to Zagros.

  “And what of my father?” Rikar struggled to his feet and stared at the god.

  “Your freedom from this place has been paid in blood. But no debt was paid for your father.” Zagros chuckled, as if amused at how pathetic Rikar looked.

  Rikar shook his fists, muttering curses. The god raised an eyebrow at Rikar as he and the dead throng marched off, and slowly disappeared into the fog. Mara came close to Talis and touched his arm. Nikulo huffed, and shook his head as if that was the strangest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

  “Our freedom gained, for a demon born.” Nikulo scowled at Rikar. “Another mortal tricked by a god.”

  “I’ll go after him. He’ll have to listen.” Rikar stared in the direction where Zagros had gone.

  “He’ll listen to you about as much as a lion listens to an antelope. Go ahead, if you want to join in your father’s torture.”

  Rikar turned and glowered at Nikulo, clenching his fists until they were red. “All this time…all this way getting here…Aurellia promised Zagros would listen.”

  “And you believed him?” Nikulo scoffed like Rikar was the stupidest person on earth.

  Rikar stretched out his hand and streams of black fibers poured out, encircling Nikulo’s neck. With a crazed look in his eyes, Rikar clenched his fingers together and the fibers squeezed. Nikulo’s face went deathly pale as he tried to free himself.

  “Stop it!” Mara shouted, and darted towards Rikar. She yanked his arm back, but Rikar stepped aside and kicked Mara, sending her tumbling back.

  The baying of hounds cascaded across the eerie landscape. Soon vicious, red eyes surrounded them. Their tongues wagged expectantly, as if waiting for Nikulo’s death.

  “If we fight, they’ll feast on us all.” Talis pointed his fingers at Rikar. “Let go of him.”

  “You think you can win against me?” Rikar released the fibers from Nikulo, and aimed his fingers at Talis. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Our city is about to be obliterated by the Jiserians and you act like this?” Talis shook his head. “Your mother is alive, back in Naru. Let’s get out of this place and find the Goddess Nacrea’s temple. We can always kill each other later.”

  “I’m not so sure if those hounds will let us out alive.” Nikulo backed slowly towards Rikar, eyeing the beasts stalking closer.

  The hounds looked at Nikulo, then Rikar, as if confused why they weren’t still fighting. Glistening saliva dripped from their mouths. The hunger surged in their eyes as they inched closer, low, rumbling growls escaping their jaws.

  Talis sidled backwards until he, Rikar, Nikulo, and Mara were pressed against each other. He kept his eyes fixed on the hounds. He could hear the wheezing of their breath. Although Talis knew of spectral hounds as nether beasts, these creatures seemed to phase in and out of physical existence, like a flickering light. Nether beasts attacked the spirit, draining you of vital energy and willpower. But these hounds would inflict damage to both the body and soul.

  As Rikar tensed his fingers, Talis whispered, “Don’t use shadow magic…they’ll just grow stronger.”

  “Do you think I’m an idiot?” Rikar scoffed. “Nether creatures fear fire. They’ll scatter quick—”

  “No!” Talis hissed. “These aren’t regular nether beasts. Look, they’re phasing.”

  “So what do you propose? Let them eat us?”

  “How about shutting up,” Mara said. “You’re the one that got us into this situation in the first place.”

  “I have a bad feeling.” Nikulo sighed irritatedly. “If we use magic to attack these creatures, I think we’ll just attract more. Look at this place, it feeds on war and violence.”

  “Call your god,” Talis said, his voice sounding more shrill than he’d expected. “Do it, call him now before they tear us apart.”

  “Why would he listen to me? He just ignored my plea for help and walked off!”

  “Do it now or I swear I’m going to kill you.”

  By now the nether hounds had completely surrounded them. The smell of rotten saliva wafted from their bared mouths. One hound, the pack-leader, inched towards Rikar. It crouched, ready to pounce.

  “Oh, Zagros!” shouted Rikar.

  The pack-leader whimpered and cringed at the name of the god.

  “Hear my plea. You rule this domain and all the creatures within. Send word to your loyal hounds, call them off the hunt, we are friend and not foe.”

  Far off in the distance, towards the mountains, a shrill whistle blew. The hounds’ ears perked up and their heads went alert, facing the direction of the sound. The pack-leader whined and complained, as if someone was taking away his favorite toy. With the second whistle, the whole pack charged off towards the mountains and disappeared into the low fog.

  Talis sighed in relief. “Let’s finish what we came here to do.” He unrolled the Surineda Map and turned it over. Now, an entirely new map was drawn. Gone were the cryptic symbols, replaced instead by a simple arrow pointing towards the volcanic mountains.

  “You’re kidding me…we have to travel to the lair of Zagros?” Nikulo scrunched up his eyes.

  “Zagros is heading away from there. It’s the perfect time to go.” Talis rolled up the map.

  “But, that’s where the hounds went.” Mara wielded her daggers, tensing as she squinted at the mountains.

  “Let’s hope somebody feeds them.”

  As they made their way off, Talis eyed Rikar, wondering if he would follow them. Rikar’s face still held a scowl, but he packed up his gear and came.

  They trekked for hours towards the mountains, clambering over desolate fields and hills until the mountains covered half of the sky. Talis consulted the map again, adjusting their direction towards a crevice in the mountain-face. They passed ruins of castles and temples and houses. As they climbed over boulders and bones and enormous petrified trees, Talis wondered if this place was once a realm of living souls. It certainly seemed that way. The roads were orderly yet broken. Signs to villages and cities still stood, marked in stone.

  “Eothwenyn,” Mara said, bending down to read the sign. “And this way, towards the mountains, is Haldrax.”

  “I didn’t know you read the ancient runes,” Talis said.

  “I’ve heard of that name someplace before.” Nikulo scratched his chin, deeply absorbed in thought. “An old city? Lost to folly. A moral tale, but I can’t remember who told it to me or where I read it.”

  Rikar sta
red at the sign. “A city older than the world itself…an underground city where mankind was first created from the elements of fire and earth and air. Back in the days when the sun scorched the land above ground and few living creatures existed, save in this subterranean world.”

  “How do you know that story?”

  A flicker of sadness washed over Rikar’s face. “My father told it to me when I was a boy…he told me many stories, so many stories that I thought were all made-up, but maybe were true. Haldrax, the city doomed to foolishness, of a mad alchemist who mixed living creatures and created monsters.” He spread his hands wide. “This madness.”

  “So the Underworld is merely an alchemist’s creation?” Mara stood, and glanced up at the mountains.

  “Let’s keep going.” Talis studied the Surineda Map, which pointed towards the ruined city. “If we’re not to sleep in this land, we need to find a way out quickly. We’ve already been awake for most of a day.”

  Talis started walking down the road towards the city, and Mara tugged on his arm. “We’re going to Haldrax?”

  “That’s the way. See the crevice in the mountains? It’s directly above those ruins, where the road leads.”

  After an hour’s steep climb, winding their way up hills and valleys and jagged rock-strewn fields, they reached a flat, open plateau with ruins so complex and nearly intact it took Talis’s breath away. The city of Haldrax was an immense, wide city built upon the steep, rocky foothills. They had failed to see it clearly before, as the low fog had obscured sight.

  But now as they crept through the ancient ruins, grey, wispy vapors seemed to emanate from the ground. One rounded, spiraling temple still shone gold. Talis peered at the building, wondering if it was made of real gold.

  “I bet there are treasures in this city.” Mara stared at a lady statue with inlaid eyes of sapphire.

  “Treasures you’d do your best to avoid,” Nikulo said, a frightened look in his eyes.