The City of Wizards

by George Mazurek

  Who could benefit from the murder?

  To answer that question, I lacked even elementary knowledge of local politics.

  I should have cared more about it...

  There were no official statements from the royal family yet. People were speculating about the heir to the throne, as Jonas, the eldest son of the King, was only eight years old. Moreover, a body of the King's younger brother had just been found on the river's shore.

  Martell refused to approve new candidates at the Council meeting last night. Master Cid’rel threatened the Burned could be removed from his supreme post.

  As expected, the tournament was canceled with no winner declared. A similar situation had occurred only twice in the tournament's three hundred year old tradition.

  People were also talking about the Gatherings under preparation.

  It's too late... Martell's words echoed in my head.

  Somebody claimed to see Bernal deserting the city with all of his family and servants. If this were true, it added to the growing mountain of bad news. It was probably a wise decision from the deputy nonetheless...

  Wise judgment or cowardice?

  I'm sorry I've lost you, mister deputy; you could have been my ally...

  The air smelled of dew and chill, but it had changed definitely. I rubbed the dragon's tooth on my chest. I didn't know what to do as I wandered aimlessly through the city. Without Elisa, the world was just a forlorn place.

  ♠

  I had never seen that wizard before. He came to my table right after lunch. He wore a long black beard but he was as short as a dwarf. The insignia of the Warlock, the all-seeing eye, shone from his collar.

  “My name is Ne’zzar,” he introduced himself. “I'm the emissary of Ver’del the Great.”

  I eyed him curiously.

  Warlock's emissary? So he hadn't forgotten me...

  “Let's go somewhere where we can talk alone.” I said to his little pleasure.

  ♠

  The emissary stood stunned in an abandoned lane with tall brick walls on either side.

  “So you reject the command of the Great?” He whispered.

  I took time to answer. I adjusted my coat, brushed a speck of dirt from my elbow, and groomed my hair and beard until I was fully satisfied with the result.

  The silence became unbearable two minutes ago, but I didn't hurry. Ne’zzar seemed close to fainting.

  “Yes, I reject!”

  Ne’zzar got pale.

  “How... You...” He stuttered.

  “The challenge will not take place in the Arena but on the roof of White Palace tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Are you crazy?” The emissary yelled. “How dare you? You deal with the Great!?”

  I shook with anger. “If he doesn't accept it, there is no challenge at all! And now you clear off before I feed my tephir with your flesh!”

  He backed away so quickly that he almost tripped over cobble stones.

  I exhaled deeply.

  One cannot show weakness during a negotiation.

  I hoped I have not gone too far, though...

  As for my choice of the place, it was obvious. Throughout the city forty statues were scattered, forty sculptures of all Warlocks from A’dan to Ver’del. Gael's bust stood at the middle of a marble fountain next to the White Palace. It was the place where my father was sent into nonexistence twenty six years ago.

  And now it is going to be my fateful place as well...

  ♠

  Here, on the top of the Wall, one could almost touch clouds running the sky, the dark blue bellies heavy with moisture and rain. I faced the plain of heather bushes and wetlands, wizards' territory I have never explored.

  The sun had set, but it was still warm.

  A rabbit with thick black hair rattled in the bushes below, and I spotted something glossy behind him.

  Beads of green and yellow...

  There were three mounds of sand close to it.

  I froze.

  Suddenly, I realized we cannot expect any support from Misty Coasts, not before or after the full moon.

  E’van didn't make it...

  I felt sorrow both for Elisa and her uncle who seemed to be a straight and honest man.

  There was slight odor of a deadly spell still hanging in the air. A brief retrospection of my accidents during the first day led me to the conclusion that the fragrance here and there was identical. It was not hard to figure out the wizard behind it.

  The Warlock...

  ♠

  “Syrdan, my love...” A whisper came from my left.

  I couldn't believe my ears.

  Is it Elisa?

  It can't be...

  I followed the whisper to the trapdoor in front of a slender bergfried. I opened it up. There was a narrow staircase heading downwards.

  “My lord,” my fellow tephir came from the dark. “Be careful. It could be a trap...”

  I thought for a while, weighing options and possibilities.

  And then I moved to the staircase.

  “Wait here.”

  ♠

  “Syrdan, come here...”

  I was almost sure it was her.

  I lit candles in rusted holders and quickened the pace. The staircase turned twice around its axis before it opened into a corridor with a low ceiling soiled with soot. Unused armors covered with cobwebs hanging from the walls lead me to another staircase. I turned to the left and there she was…

  Elisa threw her arms around my neck.

  “My love... ” she gasped.

  A blade in her hand glistened and I was stabbed right into my heart.

  I fell to the ground and died.

  ♠

  It was queer and disturbing experience to be a witness of my own death. Before I went through the trapdoor I realized my tephir was right, and it had to be a pitfall. Elisa was not in the city, I trusted Martell in this point. And certainly she wouldn't appear here, such a coincidence was simply blatant...

  But then, who was responsible for this?

  So I created a copy of myself, an avatar, whom I sent downstairs. He was my eyes and my ears.

  When I was killed I transformed my supposed body into sand. The illusion was perfect. A wizard in disguise kicked the mound with laughter. His undercover was exquisite, but there were some flaws, missing birthmark near Elisa's ear or her characteristic lavender scent.

  The plan was quite primitive but effective nonetheless. I could imagine a young fool in love rushing into perdition with open arms…

  The wizard left the corridor and headed upstairs. He opened up the trapdoor and whistled twice. A tephir came, almost invisible in the black sky with shining stars. The wizard stepped onto horny crest and his appearance changed.

  It was one of ka’tans. His coat was light-green and his beard was the color of grass.

  “My lord, let him go,” my flying fellow came with another wise advice. “You should spare all of your power for tomorrow...”

  I nodded reluctantly, hidden behind the bergfried.

  “You are right.”

  Meanwhile, the ka’tan disappeared in the night.

  I picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it in the air. Moments later it hit the wizard in the back of his head with a quiet plooong.

  He had to be really surprised...

  I smiled at the thought.

  I will deal with you later, Master Cid’rel...

  CHAPTER 7

  Day seven

  At noon I was waiting for the Warlock, and my fate, clad in my father's colors. A restless wind chased tiny leaves on the roof, and I was preoccupied with the thought that one of us will be sent into nonexistence today.

  Yes, Ver’del had lost his fingers during the duel with my father, which may have weakened his power. Still, he was a Warlock, the mightiest living wizard, and I had only little knowledge of his real capabilities.

  And the same applied to my magical powers...

  I was powerful enough to kill a ka�
��tan with a single spell. I was able to transform myself into a sparrow, something Elisa didn't consider possible. I felt unusual vibrations in my palms, spells which were about to rage...

  But could I be his equal?

  ♠

  I spent the night under the stars protected by a hiding spell.

  In the morning I learned that Quasim's inn had been reduced to ashes. The fire was ignited by a spell, and some eyewitnesses claimed another spell blocked the doors and windows, so nobody could escape flames. I hoped Lokmi had left in time. I felt sympathy with those who hadn't. Around fifty innocent beings died, including Quasim, that kind-hearted man I used to like.

  Yesterday, people were leaving the city, today they were fleeing. Everybody smelled it in the air. It was the odor of death....

  I knew immediately who was responsible for this.

  The one who calls himself the Great...

  In the distance Mag’reb shone in the high noon sunlight.

  How could you allow such a crime, you, legendary patron of all living?

  The tower kept silent.

  ♠

  The sun shone brightly on the Wall when the doors of a Warlock at the top of Mag’reb opened and a tiny speck shot out of it.

  I shivered from heels to hair.

  The speck grew rapidly. The Warlock soared down on the most majestic tephir I had ever seen. He held the white and black ceremonial staff in his right hand, while his left remained hidden under his sleeve.

  He descended within ten steps from me. I could instantly feel his power, unmatched in the entire universe.

  I withstood his demonstration of power, though it was not easy as I was tempted to step back.

  Ver’del the Great adjusted his majestic coat and sent his tephir away.

  “Are you ready to die?” He asked as he aimed his staff at my chest. “You shouldn't have crossed me, boy!”

  I stepped back as Warlock's gaze rose over my head...

  ♠

  I turned.

  There was another wizard coming, with half of his face burnt to flesh!

  I almost shouted in despair! They had plotted against me!

  History has repeated itself!

  But Martell the Burned jumped off his tephir and headed towards the Warlock with the black staff in his left hand. He stopped five steps from Ver’del, almost as tall as the Warlock and almost as horrifying.

  “You'll never get my daughter!”

  “You dare to defy a Warlock?” Ver’del's features twisted.

  “No,” Martell replied. “I do not defy a Warlock, I defy you…”

  Ver’del's eyes flashed red.

  “I made a terrible mistake in the past,” Martell went on. “But I'm not going to repeat it. You took what was most precious to me! You are not a Warlock! You are a wizard disgrace. A monster!”

  Ver’del's eyes changed to dangerous crimson. He remained calm, but I knew this would change at any moment...

  The Warlock struck the ground with his staff and the skies darkened.

  “Martell the Burned, do you challenge me?” he roared.

  Martell hammered the ground with his staff and the earth quaked. “Yes, I do!”

  ♠

  Both wizards circled each other as predator and prey, but who was the prey had yet to be decided. I was wise enough to stand aside…

  Perhaps Martell can defeat him. If not for Martell my father would destroy him…

  Nothing happened for a while. Then the air became electric with spells, and the ground under my feet shook. It happened once, then again…

  And then the fury of hell erupted!

  The palace quaked so violently that I almost fell to the ground. Cracks as wide as my fist split the palace roof, and in the sky thunders and lightning raged. From the Ka’tan spire a silver whirlwind spun into Martell's hands. The Burned was gaining the power of Ka’tan itself. From his hands a deadly blaze rose and struck the Warlock.

  I could feel the heat, hot enough to melt steel. Ver’del stepped back and shielded himself with his staff.

  Averot’h started to decay. The Warlock was pulling his power from the city like a blanket is pulled off of a bed. The city began to crumble into ruins. The King’s spire, broken three times already, crashed to the ground and was followed by the Gatherings spire soon. Immense clouds of dust billowed into the air making the sky even darker. The pompous palaces disintegrated like children's toys, darkness rolled over the river, reducing all of the bridges to dust. Blue waters blackened into anthracite swamps, and trees that lined the shores shattered like toothpicks. On the other side of the river it approached Ka’tan. The spire trembled and its trunk got scarred with crevices.

  Martell staggered but maintained to stop the deadly darkness in front of the Spire.

  Strengthen by the new force Ver’del moved forward. His eyes glowed in red and yellow, and behind that black and white figure of Mag’reb appeared. The Tower itself endorsed him.

  And I realized the battle was over. With possession of the power of Mag’reb, the darkness broke through to Ka’tan and the Council tower shook to its very foundation. Warlock's palms beamed with a green fire so intense that I had to cover my eyes with an arm. And then the fire hit Martell right into his chest.

  The Burned wizard shouted, dropped his ceremonial staff, and sank to the ground.

  “Now you die!” Ver’del hissed and raised an arm for the final blow.

  At that moment I struck him with all my strength.

  The effect was comparable to that of a fly hitting the wall.

  “I almost forgot you, the son of Gael,” Ver’del said, stepped towards me and the rest of the green fire spurt out right into my face...

  ♠

  No mortal could imagine such force!

  And the pain!

  I was pierced by thousands of knives, they tore the flesh from my bones, my joints were dislocated, tendons ripped apart, and I fell to the ground groaning.

  “You broke your oath!” I shouted. “You set the fire at Quasim's last night! Nobody survived! I swear to Mag’reb!”

  Suddenly the pain ceased as if it had never been there. The knives were out of my body, the joints returned to their places, and the tendons kept it all together again.

  Even the tiniest speck of dust stayed motionless in the air.

  Ver’del opened his hands again, but there was no power glowing.

  Mag’reb had repudiated him definitely. His latest crime was the last drop that filled up a cup.

  He was not a Warlock any more...

  ♠

  I got up from the debris.

  I was son of Gael the Just, the only true heir to the former Warlock. I felt an inflow of my father's force from an inconceivable distance. Now I towered above Ver’del by four inches, if not more...

  I shortened the distance between myself and Ver’del in an instant.

  “Prepare to pay for your atrocities,” I said. “You are going to die!”

  ♠

  The former Warlock raised his palms but the flow of his power shattered innocently several feet behind me.

  I knocked the staff out of his right hand and kicked it off the roof. My left hand grew twice its normal size and grasped his head.

  I squeezed it with all my power.

  The sky turned pale, grey, and white. The air filled the whine of thousands of tortured souls, both humans' and wizards'.

  Blood gushed out of Warlock's ears. His death spells slid from my shoulders harmless as rain drops. His left eye couldn't withstand the pressure and was jettisoned from his stiff face. From his right eye the most terrible spells were emitted, but my magic shield diverted them high into the clouds.

  I tightened my grip.

  The sky rotated fiercely, the day shifted into the night, and revolving stars sketched fiery circles on the black canvass in the background.

  A cracking sound announced the Warlock had finally set out for a long journey to nonexistence. His skull burst into grey-green drops cove
red with feathers and flew away with a deep cawing.

  Warlock's headless body wavered. I blew at it, and the body tilted backwards and fell over the edge of the palace into the void below, into the eternal oblivion...

  ♠

  “Well done,” a quiet voice came behind me.

  Martell was lying on the ground, shaking with pain. His body was burnt from hair to boots.

  “He's got what he deserved. And me as well... The abuse of human females and the killing of males... He was responsible for it. The Council had accepted it with voting... I was ... against it... the only one!” He shouted the last word and twisted in agony.

  “He coveted... my wife Illara... and asked for her. I refused… He threatened to destroy the city… I refused… So he kidnapped her… during the tournament… Abused and killed her… Then he asked for Elisa… Fortunately … She escaped… I was trapped… between him... and the Council... Looking for a way out… So I turned to you… young Gael…”

  Now everything made perfect sense. He was my mother's fiery angel. He was the person who sent me to her as a little boy after the death of my father. And it was his voice I remembered from my journey on the tephir.

  He saved my life, then and now…

  I didn't know what to say.

  “I recall that day… as if it was yesterday…” He wheezed. “The sun was shining… The sky was clear… And birds were singing… Ver’del promised me a seat in the Council… In case he would be successful… I was nobody… Just a wizard from some remote... highland marshes… not older than you are now… who longed to be someone important… But since the very beginning… it was clear he couldn't match the power of Gael… He retreated… He was almost defeated… But I was too selfish and ambitious… to give up my dreams… So I intervened… and substituted Ver’del in the Challenge… Gael was the finest wizard of his generation… with an immense power… We fought all day… I was dead tired… My heart ceased to beat... I was about to die... when joyful news from Illara flashed in my mind… She just gave birth to our daughter… My heart started beating again... I picked up the remaining power… to the final desperate blow… Gael was about to do the same… We struck each other at the same moment… We both fell to the ground… When I regained my senses… I was burned badly... but alive... Gael was dead… And meanwhile… Ver’del became a Warlock…”