Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice

by Jeff Inlo

  She was thankful for the respect. She slept little since their arrival in the dark realm, and though she could not be sure how many days had past, she was certain it was far too many. The tired ache of her muscles made movement difficult, but she did not wish to appear dependent on another. Even the appearance of frailty would not help their cause. The elves of her camp looked to her for strength and resolve, and she refused to disappoint them.

  When they reached the appropriate spot, Birk asked Shantree to give him a moment. He needed to address the other elves—discuss the appropriate utilization of magical energies and adjust the planned dispersal of power. Every elf would be encouraged to unleash every bit of magic.

  Speaking with several elf magic casters, he advised them to concentrate greater energy against the barrier. Once they all understood and acknowledged that no effort would be spared, he returned to Shantree's side.

  "They are going to begin in a few moments." He motioned to a half dozen elves that stood behind several other magic casters near the wall. "The six further back will call on as much energy as they can absorb. They will feed the casters with magic as they weave their spells. They will now pull from all available sources. Do not be alarmed if you feel as if you are being drawn to them. The magic will flow heavily through us all."

  "I understand," Shantree replied.

  Birk pointed to two elves nearest the edge of the domed obstruction.

  "Those two shall monitor the barrier. They have already cast a spell that allows them to see the intrinsic strength of the force field. They are not quite linked to the barrier spell itself, but they have been able to match their vision to the tune of the vibrations emitted from the obstacle. They believe that the vibrations will become erratic as the field weakens. Once all the casters are ready, they will direct the assault. They will determine the order of the spell castings and which hues to utilize."

  "Have they decided who will go first?" Shantree wondered aloud.

  "Scheff Rutlan," Birk announced. "He is the most accomplished of our magic casters. He has achieved a near perfect circle and he casts in dark violet. Of all the elves in our camp, his inherent hue is the closest to pure ebony. We believe we need to match the essence of the spell to the best of our ability at the beginning, then we might devise the path to break it down."

  "Dark violet," Shantree whispered, "the power of the storm."

  Birk nodded and said no more. He watched and waited as the first elf began shaping his energy into the proper spell.

  Scheff Rutlan moved close enough to the barrier to almost reach out and touch it. Stepping between the two elves that monitored the force field, he also seized the essence of the barrier. It was made of pure magic, but the energy from the field rebuked him. He could feel the power swirling throughout the dark but translucent wall, and he let his own magical essence bubble out from his core. As the two energies came in close contact, the force that constructed the barrier opposed the violet energy within him.

  The magic that coursed through the barrier pulsed in harmony with the surrounding lands. It echoed with the screams of death in the distance, and it surged with the long shadows that stretched across its surface. It flowed up into the sultry air, and it embraced the hard lifeless soil. Most of all, it throbbed in joyous recognition of the constant upheaval that surrounded it. It thrived in the chaotic change of the dark realm, as if its entire essence was constructed from the very fabric of that twisted reality.

  Scheff could do more than just feel the awesome strength within the barrier. He could see it. As he pulled at the energy, placed himself within the flow of magic that constructed the force field, a thick blanket of ebony magic spilled into his consciousness. It was the purest black he had ever seen and it filled him with awe.

  The magic that fueled the barrier was near indescribable. It was beyond shadow, beyond night. It was larger than loneliness and greater than grief. It was all encompassing. It was the border between realities, the very transition from one existence to another, and the absolute boundary between one life and the next. It was the hollow void of emptiness, and the absolute grip of alteration within each existence. Its overwhelming reach into pure nothingness was total, complete... perfect.

  Even as the great shadow of magic engulfed his spirit, Scheff felt it reject him. The blackness swept across the purple hue of his essence, unwilling to mix with energy unfit to join its purity. It seemed as if the magic scoffed at him, ridiculed the elf for being inferior. It did not bother to press the violet energy aside, or charge through like some invader at a gate. It did not try to overwhelm the elf, or obliterate him in a burst of dominance. It simply allowed itself to be acknowledged by the elf, as if offering a peek at magnificence.

  Feeling hopelessness grow within him, Scheff could do little more than allow the flow of ebony pureness to pass through him and then disregard him as an insignificant insect. With the dark shadow gone from his spirit, he took hold of the violet magic that was his to control. It felt small, almost powerless.

  It was so strange. He had the ability to cast spells of tremendous force. He could create storms that could devastate the land, and yet, he knew he could not even dent the barrier before him. The black magic that had built the wall did not challenge the elf or even mock him. It just dismissed him, and Scheff knew it.

  Disregarding his sudden sense of inadequacy, Scheff brought the full measure of his violet power to a sharpened point. He knew any attempt to completely overcome the barrier was pure folly, but that was already understood by all the elves that stood beside him. It was not his charge to break the barrier, or even to dent it. He only needed to find a way to disturb it, even ever so slightly. A drop of water cannot break through a stone wall, but an infinite number of raindrops could flood the land and carve great valleys from the strongest rock foundations. He was but the first drop of water.

  Scheff pressed his palms together in front of his narrow face. He closed his eyes and opened himself up to magic that was fed to him through several links formed by the elves behind him. He turned the magic over in his soul, brought out the purple hue in every strain that entered his being.

  A near perfect circle formed initially around his wrists, but the ring quickly grew and encompassed his entire body. It swirled around his head and shoulders with the center focused at the middle of his pressed palms. The ring grew wide and quickly caught the attention of every elf trapped in the dark realm.

  Confining all the power within him into a single spell, Scheff formed that single drop of water deep in his consciousness, that small bead that seemed so irrelevant but signaled the start of a mighty storm. It was hard and sharp, the perfect stone that could drop a giant if thrown with faith. In that small droplet, the purple force pulsed with its own fury. It could not match the potent throb of the ebony wall, but it became the embodiment of Scheff's inherent power. It was the strength of a hurricane in a single stone of hail and Scheff held it at the core of his being until it became far too intense to contain.

  Unleashing the condensed ball of violet magic, the elf spell caster directed it into the wall before him. The projectile flashed out from the center of his hands. The purple ring of energy that once swirled around the elf followed the trail and exploded upon the surface of the barrier.

  A great flash of lightning burst across the obstruction and a clap of thunder shook the ground. The wave of force nearly knocked Shantree Wispon from her feet, but Birk Grund caught her before she completely lost her balance. A burst of wind exploded from the point of contact and the sudden blast dislodged several weakened branches from the surrounding half-dead trees.

  Scheff did not simply unleash the spell and separate himself from the energy. He held to it as if grasping the string to a kite lost high in a night sky. He forced his will against the massive ebony energy, sought to peel a small portion of the black magic away from the barrier.

  The obstruction swallowed the attack, but not without consequence. The mass of black energy could not diffuse
the sudden onslaught. It did not fall or buckle, or even crack, but it did shudder. The violet magic rippled through the translucent wall and Scheff shouted out his advance.

  "I have not broken through, but I have intertwined my spell with the barrier!"

  The two monitors noted the remarkable achievement, far greater success than either had expected.

  "The wall has not weakened, but the ebony magic is spreading apart to envelop the influx of the purple hue!" one monitor reported.

  The second observer considered the implications and then offered his assessment for the next spell.

  "The storm creates the wake, let water flush into the passage!"

  They all agreed, and while Scheff continued to force his spell against the obstruction, another elf—powerful in the casting of blue magic—moved to his side. The second caster could not quite cast with the same efficiency as Scheff. His circle of control fluctuated at times, but his influence over water was unmatched by any other elf within the camp.

  Blue was the perfect compliment to the violet storm. They worked in tandem. As the purple magic created the passage, the azure energy flowed heavily behind in its wake. The force of water expanded the pressure, seeped into the essence of the barrier and bubbled with boiling fury.

  The monitors directed their attention on the emissions of the force field. The integrity of the black energy held, but it continued to tremble against the concentrated assault. The rhythm of the vibrations from the barrier became unsteady, the flow of magic that coursed throughout the translucent wall flared with irregularity.

  At first, many elves grew optimistic. They believed their plan might ultimately cause the breach they needed far sooner than expected. Several elf sorcerers—talented and experienced in creating portals to other dimensions—readied themselves to dash through any break in the field. If they could just escape the prison, they believed they could return to Uton and gain the help they needed.

  Despite the growing tremors through the force field, the barrier would not dissolve even a pinprick. Those who monitored the ebony magic, however, understood the battle had just begun. It was not their ambition to destroy the obstruction with two waves of magic, but to weaken it, to peel away the strength of the wall with patience and perseverance.

  "What next?" one monitor asked of the other. "Land or nature?"

  "Red magic," came the reply. "Let the power of rock and soil follow the water. It will take hold of our advances, hold firm against retreat. Then we will follow with the emerald energy of nature. The crimson energy will form the base for the green energy to thrive."

  Both monitors agreed, but before they would let the elf graced with control over red magic cast her spell, they bid Scheff to cease his spell of storms.

  "The violet casting must end and the blue energy must be strengthened first. If all three come together at once, the storm will overwhelm the other two. The three hues will merge. That is not what we want. Red and blue must be allowed to work in concert with each other, but not in such a way that they become so intertwined they simply feed the violet power."

  Scheff complied with the instruction, and just as another elf prepared a blast of crimson magic, he ceased his spell. The power that was fed into him broke away and was offered to the other two elves that cast spells of blue and red fury. As he felt the energy drain away, he nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

  He took several steps back, allowing room for the others, but he remained nearby. Curiosity bid him to watch the wall, but he forced the desire out of his mind. He concentrated entirely on his own magical reserves. He inhaled deeply any shallow energy in the air, embraced all traces of the humidity that might hold a flicker of magical power. He wanted to recharge as quickly as possible. He understood that his gifts would be needed again. The combination of hues was nothing more than a guess. Trial and error was a part of the process and it was doubtful they would find the exact sequence on their first attempt. The endeavor was as complicated as it was draining, but he would not claim exhaustion as an excuse for failure.

  A young elf by the name of Flower began her casting the moment Scheff ended his spell. A rich red oval of magic, not quite a perfect circle, twirled around her neck as she lowered her arms and held her hands firmly against the outside of her thighs. She kept her eyes open and her brown pupils turned a fiery crimson.

  Flower placed her sight on the very spot of the barrier where the blue energy met the ebony magic. The red ring continued to spin just below her chin, but a single line of straight red power jabbed outward and flowed into the wall right alongside the stream of blue magic.

  The two energies remained separate, each one distinct and never combining into one single line, but they held to each other as if they had become twins. The two hues worked side by side as the magic entered the barrier and pounded against the interior essence of the magical wall. Red and blue forcing their way deeper and deeper into the obstacle, the spells utilized their inherent qualities in a manner that would maximize the effect.

  The azure energy continued to work as water would, raging like a flood and constantly flowing in currents of pure force. It moved both ahead and behind the red power, racing forward unrelentingly with greater stability and uniform might. It served as both the harbinger for the force that would follow and the mighty hand that pressed from the rear and would not allow retreat.

  The crimson energy rode the blue waves and slammed against the barrier like an avalanche of rocks tumbling down a mountainside. The red magic did not flow smoothly or even continuously. It became a grinding torrent of abrasive influence that shoved its way forward and then abruptly halted to expand outward. It hammered against the opposing ebony magic, using the blue energy that flowed with it as the driving force that compelled it to move beyond its natural state of inertia.

  The elves that scrutinized the effect of the spells continued to sense erratic vibrations from the wall. They believed they might have been lucky enough to find an effective pattern of spells. While the barrier did not quite buckle, the intensity of its mystical aura began to fade at the point of contact with the other spells.

  One of the monitors believed an opportunity was at hand. If they were going to pour all their magic into the attempt, there was no sense in delaying a necessary boost to the assault.

  "They must continue, but let us now add the emerald energy. The power of nature will compliment the blue and red energy. Let the three work together!"

  The second monitor agreed and they waved forward the elf blessed with the greatest gift over green magic.

  The casting of emerald power shot out like the accelerated growth of a thousand thin vines twisted and tangled together into a massive vein of green lightning. It flashed about the long column of red and blue magic and wrapped itself around the line.

  As the third hue embraced the other two and pressed against the magical obstacle, the opposing magic appeared to finally strike back. A dark pulse enveloped the three strands of energy and bit ferociously into each casting. Ebony power flowed out of the wall and appeared to take greater hold of the emerald cord of magic.

  The bright green color began to fade quickly, like the accelerated wilting of a dying plant. Spots of imperfection expanded along the emerald energy. A sickly brown stain infected the entire strand, and the cord of magical vines began to fall away from the red and blue line.

  The effect was not lost on either monitor. They began to fear their progress would be lost in the backlash.

  "The black power is overwhelming the green magic," one elf called out.

  "The red and blue are losing their potency," the other monitor added. "We must enhance the emerald power and cut off the other two."

  "Yellow magic," the first monitor agreed. "Let it augment the strength of the emerald energy."

  The casters of blue and red were immediately directed to cease their spells, and the elf responsible for casting in a yellow was brought close to the wall.

  The new spell caster was an elf named Haven
Wellseed, and her power over golden magic was well known throughout the camp. She did not cast in a circle, but rather a triangle... a perfect isometric triangle that glowed with as much glory as the sun on high. She had always brought light to darkness by her very presence as the yellow magic glowed around her even when she did not actively cast a spell. She was viewed as a gift to the camp the moment the magic returned and filled her soul with light.

  Haven stepped lightly up to the barrier, her slim frame overwhelmed by the long dark shadows that raced across the span of the obstacle. It appeared a desperate attempt, like throwing a single candle against the gripping darkness of the eternal abyss, and yet, when she began her casting, the golden energy allowed the slight elf to glow like a beacon of hope.

  The yellow power of light fed the green magic, but it also blistered its way into the shaded wall. Even as it re-energized the emerald energy, wiped clean the sickening brown that had infested the strand, the golden magic blazed into the nearly imperceptible hollows left by the initial assault of storm, water and earth.

  Glowing ever brighter, Haven's spell grew in intensity, but it did not work alone. Even as it strengthened the green magic, she drank in the energy the other elves joyously fed into the core of her soul. The full measure of elf magic blossomed in the combination of green and gold.

  Increasing its defense, the ebony power fought against the yellow energy, clearly showing a hostile response to magic it found—not inferior—but clearly distasteful... and perhaps dangerous. The output of ebony magic increased several times over, and for the first time since the elves had been imprisoned, the translucent barrier turned completely dark.

  The elves could no longer see the gray sky above, the birds soaring overhead, or even the burning lakes of fire in the distance. They were completely encased in a great dome of blackness. If it wasn't for Haven's glowing form, they would not have been able to see anything at all, for no light could have penetrated the barrier.