by Jordan Baker
"There you are," Draxis said with a vicious looking smile that revealed rows of sharp, reptilian teeth. "Kill them! Kill them all!" Splinters flew into he air as he wrenched his axe free, and fires roared to life all around as Quenta leapt away from the half-Darga.
Quenta drew his sword and parried another swipe from the giant axe as Draxis pursued him over the fallen trees. Darga appeared all around him, emerging from the dirt where they had lain in wait and they began attacking the small group of elves as they tried to make it back to the cover of the trees. Winged Darga rained down burning pitch from above, not bothering to avoid their lesser comrades who barely even noticed when the flames hit them directly, for their scaled hide was resistant to its heat.
Quenta leapt through a break between several trees and slashed at a Darga that sprung up on the far side, cutting the creature's throat. He heard Draxis yell and rolled to his feet to see him flying over the trees, his wings outstretched and the great axe above his head. Quenta spun and dodged backwards again, and he caught sight of several of his warriors also trying to make it back to the trees. They were at a disadvantage here, where nothing lived and the power of the forest could not help them.
"Coward!" Draxis yelled, with a dark, taunting laugh. "Why do you run?"
Quenta seethed with anger at the insult and he turned and leapt at the half-Darga, his blade meeting the haft of the great axe. Draxis shoved him back and Quenta was surprised at his strength and speed as he ducked the razor sharp blade that swung at him, and he rolled to the side, springing to his feet and leaping over several fallen trees as he ran toward the forest. His way was suddenly blocked by a group of Darga and Quenta glanced over his shoulder to see Draxis flying toward him once again. He continued running, straight toward the Darga, his sword ready to cut through them, when several arrows shot from the trees, taking the lizard creatures in the neck. They fell to the ground, choking on their own blood and clearing a path as Quenta moved from side to side, dodging splashed of fire that fell down from the flying Darga above. As soon as Quenta's feet touched the living forest, he spun around and met Draxis' blade, his own strength now increased with that of a great oak with its roots beneath his feet. Draxis stepped back and swung his axe around easily in his hand.
"Ah, now you can fight," he said with a cruel grin. "It might be more interesting and make for a fair fight, but I don't particularly care about such things. We are going to burn this forest with you in it."
"The moment you desecrated these lands was the moment you died," Quenta told him. "You are an abomination that should never have lived."
"Well it's a little late for that, isn't it?" Draxis seethed and he raised his axe again, only to swing it before him and knock away several arrows. The hiss of bowstrings sounded again and Draxis dodged to the side as feathered bolts whistled through the air where he had been standing. He turned and looked to where the elf had stood but found the spot empty, with no sign of the elven warrior, and he growled at having been denied his first kill of the battle. Draxis casually knocked aside another volley of arrows that flew toward him from the trees, then he turned and walked from the forest.
"Burn it!" he yelled and he turned to look at the dark forest behind him. "Burn it all."
Catapults snapped from the camp, flinging barrels of burning pitch high into the air over the forest and winged Darga flew out over the trees, firing flaming arrows down toward the fleeing elves that they could see, even thought the trees, with their predatory reptilian vision. Draxis stormed up to the camp and returned to his tent, where he had been when the signal had come, informing of the approaching elves, a momentary distraction and an irritating encounter. Now he would deal with a matter that had caused him no small amount of aggravation, for the mage priests had refused to provide any more of the poison stones. Weakened as they were, and their magic largely ineffective against his Darga, he had given them a final ultimatum and they would either comply with his orders, or his axe would taste their power.
Draxis flung open the flap of the tent and, instead of the group of mages, he found only the two Darga that he had left to guard them, each of them bleeding on the ground from puncture wounds where their eyes had been. Draxis growled at the loss, for it would surely slow down his Darga having to fight the elves in their forest rather than the barren wasteland he intended for it to become. Still, before whatever it was that had happened that freed them from the will of the god, they had already spelled a good many of the dark, poisonous stones. It frustrated him to have to concern himself with such things, but he supposed he would have to be more strategic about their use.
With no reason to remain in the command tent, Draxis walked outside and leapt into the night air, letting his wings carry him up and over the trees. He searched the ground, looking through the leaves for signs of movement between the patches of fire that were already beginning to spread. This night he would hunt, for he hungered for the power that he knew his axe would bring when it tasted elven blood.
*****
"I can feel you," Calexis hissed, her voice a whisper that echoed through the darkness that covered the entire city. "You hide like a mouse, but you cannot hide forever."
Aaron ignored the voice and continued down the street, side-stepping as two guards walked past him, unable to see him because of the magic that kept him hidden. The throbbing pain in his head was beginning to worsen, but there were still a few things Aaron needed to do, and as much as he looked forward to removing the temporary ward he had placed on himself, he also dreaded its release, for he knew that his power was dangerously close to overflowing. When that happened, he knew the shadow within him would be able to grasp hold of his power, and he had to find a way to prevent that battle from harming the people of the city. Aaron suspected that the answer lay in the temple of the dark god, and now that he had removed the power of the book, if he destroyed the temple and the crystals inside it, perhaps it would disrupt the magic that had enslaved the city. However, doing such a thing would require a lot of power, and dragging the book from the magical pathway Stroma had shown him had taken more than he had expected.
Aaron found his way to the small house that belonged to the mage, Calthas, and after checking to make sure that no one was around, he went inside. Aaron stepped over the mess of items that had been tossed unceremoniously upon the floor, likely by the mage priests, or perhaps some of the soldiers, taking care not to disturb anything and he made his way to the hidden workshop and opened the door. He felt an odd but familiar presence in the near complete darkness of the room.
"Calthas?" Aaron said, and he heard a loud sigh as several oil lamps in the room flared to life.
"Aaron!" Calthas said, suddenly becoming visible and lowering a sword he held awkwardly in front of him. "Where have you been? Stavros has been in a fit of, well, I'm not sure what kind of fit, but he's certainly been in a terrible mood. You just missed him, in fact, which might be for the best."
"What are you doing here, Calthas?"
"I am trying to understand how these godswords work," he said, holding up the sword. "Stavros and I have been working on finding a way to destroy those crystals the mage priests have been using to suck the life out of the people and control them. The spell is based on a similar magic to the book, but it's different because it affects everyone, even people who have no magic. I don't know if you noticed any of the people in the city, but they're barely alive and they act like they are half asleep."
"Everything is different here," Aaron said with a frown. He had been so focused on finding the book and keeping the god from finding him that he did not pay much attention to the few people of the city he had passed, beyond noticing the oppression under which they appeared to live. "So, it is as I thought that even without the book, the people are bound to this god. I can feel the power of the temple holding them and slowly draining their lives."
"Yes, that is what I am working on," Calthas said and laid the sword on the table then he sat down at one of the chairs, pulled out
his flask and took a drink. "What news of the books?"
"The god no longer has the books," Aaron told him, pulling up a nearby chair and sitting down, glad for a moment to be off his feet, and glad to have some positive news to share. "I found the final copy and broke the spell."
"Truly? So it's safe to be a mage again?" Calthas smiled and raised his flask. "A toast to that."
"I don't know if it is safe to be anyone right now," Aaron commented, looking down at the sword on the table. "Stroma told me that the godswords take the power of the slain."
"Yes and no," Calthas said. "They take the power of anyone who is touched by the one using it who desires their power. It is all in the will of the wielder, but apparently the deeper the cut, the faster it works, so the slaying part is the most effective way, especially considering it's a sword."
"What use are they against this other magic?" Aaron asked. "You can't steal the life of people who have already had their life drained. Wouldn't you want the opposite?"
"That is exactly what we're trying to do," Calthas said with a grin. "If we can reverse the spell of the crystals, then the power would flow back to the people, and hopefully it would suck the life out of this accursed god. The problem is the crystals that were used to take the power are weak compared to the gems in this sword, and if too much power were to flow through them too quickly, it would probably fail, not to mention the possibility that the shadow might end up flowing into the people as well, which could be an even worse problem."
"That would not be good at all," Aarons said, knowing very well what it felt like to have the shadow within him. Calthas was also aware of how Aaron struggled with the shadow.
"Is it difficult, I suppose, resisting the shadow, I mean."
"Yes, it is very difficult," Aaron told him. "I won't be able to hold it back much longer."
"What do you plan to do?" Calthas asked.
"You want to know if I will burn Calexis and the shadow with truefire?"
"That is sort of the question, isn't it? Stavros said that was Stroma's plan."
"Stroma's plan would have killed everyone in Maramyr," Aaron said.
"The entire city?" Calthas was surprised. "I knew truefire was powerful, but that is impressive."
Aaron did not want to tell the mage of how it was more than just the city and its people that would be in danger. If what Stroma had planned represented how much power would be needed to destroy the god and the shadow, much of the land would be destroyed as well.
"Stroma would have burned the city?" Calthas asked.
"If it would destroy the shadow, yes," Aaron replied. "How soon do you think you can stop the magic that holds the people of the city?"
"I don't even know if it will work," Calthas said. "The spell was created by dozens of mages, strengthening the crystals and infusing them with their power, so they would all resonate with that giant crystal at the temple. Even if we can use the sword to change the direction of the flow of energy, there is still the danger of the shadow and the god that is Calexis isn't likely to cooperate. Stavros is also worried that the people may already have some essence of the dark power in them from when the spell was first cast, or that if we did reverse the flow of energy, it might do the same thing. Stavros is trying to learn about that now."
"What if you just break the spell? Destroy the temple and destroy the magic."
"That is also a problem. Half of the people would probably die on the spot," Calthas said. "Many are barely more than walking corpses at this point, though some of the Maramyrian soldiers already appear to be just that. The people still live, but they are being drained almost to the point of death, meanwhile those soldiers are still somehow alive, but their bodies are dead. They're like variations of the same thing."
"I now see why death magic was outlawed by the gods and the mages," Aaron said, disappointed that his plan to destroy the temple would endanger the people, but glad he had found Calthas before he had tried such a thing.
"It is truly insidious, this stealing life from others," Calthas agreed, then he scratched his head and looked at Aaron. "I must ask, Aaron. Why did you come to my house? Was there something you needed?"
Aaron smiled.
"Truthfully, it is late, and I thought to borrow your workshop for a moment's rest," he said, and Calthas smiled at the unexpected moment of normality.
"Well, my friend, you are in luck, for the magic here still holds," Calthas said. "I heard that blasted Calexis and I thought she was looking for me, but I suppose she is really after you."
"She knows I am near, but not exactly where."
"Well let us hope she doesn't find you."
"When the time comes, it won't be that difficult," Aaron told him. "I intend to seek her out."
"You plan to fight her?" Calthas asked, and Aaron nodded.
"I have no choice, Calthas. I am almost out of time before the shadow will take hold of my power, no matter what I do, but I have broken the spell of the book, which means Calexis no longer controls the mage priests. How long will it take you and Stavros to reverse the magic of the crystals? I must know."
"It will take some time, especially if we don't want Calexis to notice what we are doing," Calthas said. "We have to alter the magic in each crystal, and there are dozens of them placed all over the city, then there is that large crystal in the temple, which is the focal point for the magic. And, once we change that one, then there will be no more hiding it."
"How long, Calthas?" Aaron asked again.
"It could take several days, I think."
Aaron frowned, and then he rose slowly from the chair.
"I will do what I can to give you the time you need. Do what you can to get the people free and away from the city, as far away as possible." Aaron told him as the pain in his head started to throb and he felt the shadow begin to reach for his power once more, like black pitch slowly oozing toward a blazing fire. He took a coin from his pocket and used a trick of magic he had learned from Stroma, making an exact replica of it, which he flipped to Calthas. "When you are ready to reverse the spell, destroy that coin. This one will become heavy once again, and I will do what I can to keep Calexis busy while you do what needs to be done. And, if I fail, then it will be your coin that becomes heavy, for I have tied this spell to my thoughts, which are now what keep the two pieces apart."
Calthas pocketed the coin in his robe. "You sound like you are leaving already."
"I must go," Aaron told him. "I needed a moment's rest, and there are still a few things I would like to do."
"You should wait until Stavros returns, Aaron," Calthas said, standing from his seat as well.
Aaron shook his head and clasped the mage by the arm in a soldier's farewell.
"Give Stavros my regards," he said. "And please tell him for me that I understand why he did what he did so many years ago."
"I will," Calthas replied.
He nodded and felt the grip on his arm loosen, then he silently watched as Aaron smiled tiredly and walked from the room. The mage rubbed his arm then pulled back the sleeves of his robe and saw dark finger marks appearing where Aaron had grasped him, and the sensation of ice and fire at the same time coursed through him, then slowly faded. From the look in Aaron's eyes, he doubted that Aaron had meant to cause him harm, but it was obvious that the forces within him were no longer entirely within his control. Calthas stared at the sword that lay on the table and he went back to work, casting another spell that would hopefully reveal more of the nature of its magic.
Barely moments after Aaron had left, Calthas felt Stavros' presence enter the house and, as he walked into the room, he turned to greet the older mage, with a grim expression on his face.
"What have you discovered?" Stavros asked.
"That we haven't much time," Calthas told him.
*****
Jax slipped past the soldiers, expertly using the darkness of night to cover his passing, and made his way toward the sewer entrance that would lead him out of the city.
Carefully, he lifted the heavy grate and climbed down several rusted iron rungs, then he slid the grate back over his head and clambered down the rest of the way, dropping into the foul, brackish water that flowed thickly around his ankles, slowly soaking into his boots. He cursed the knowledge of what he was walking through, and the smell was far worse than he had ever experienced before. There was a pervasive rot in the city, and though he had been in plenty of sewers in his life, the stench of it turned his stomach inside out. Jax took out a small, wrapped taper from his pocket and struck a piece of flint to it, casting a dim glow in the tunnel, then he oriented himself and headed for the exit, eager to be away from the city for a growing list of reasons.
As he neared a drainage portal he knew had a large crack in the stonework that was large enough for a person to fit through, he began to hear the echo of voices. It sounded as though they were coming from just outside, and Jax found it odd that whomever was talking sounded very young, and perhaps a little foolish, for as they continued to argue, their voices grew louder, as though they were asking to be found by the guards of the city. Jax edged part way through the crack in the stones and glanced outside, and in the dim light of the cloudy night sky that seemed a little less dark than inside the city, he saw a young girl and a creature who reminded him a little of one of the lizard men, though this one was obviously female, and more human in her looks than the Darga he had seen. He also noticed that she carried a sword at her waist, and he recognized its jeweled hilt right away, and the snatches of the conversation he had overheard started to make a little more sense.
"You might want to keep your voices down," Jax said and the two girls froze. Slowly, Jax held his hand out, then he cupped his hand around the small taper he held, to hide it from any guards who might chance to look out from the city walls, and he emerged from the crack, with a smile on his face. "Worry not, I mean you no harm."
"Who are you?" the lizard girl asked, and she leapt toward him, drawing her sword almost impossibly fast.