by Dante King
“I wanted to amplify my magic. In order to further my inventions. But my success was a double-edged sword. There were many in the kingdom who did not see the opportunity for knowledge, but the opportunity for power. The war that followed—the war we all commemorate on the appointed days, or when passing our many memorials—resulted in the extinction of all mage hunters…or so we thought.”
“Now you are our last, best hope, Kurt,” Yarina said.
I felt the weight of that responsibility settle over me, but I refused to be cowed by it. I had left the country for adventure, for purpose, for the chance to prove myself. If that meant spending years chasing rats, that was what I would have done, and I did do. It was all that mattered to me. I had that chance now and I would not falter, I would not hesitate. I would embrace my new fate and become the mage hunter Trysca needed.
“So, finally, this is the moment we can go into detail. Who—and what—are these doom mages?” I asked.
“Doom mages are essentially evocation mages,” Qilzid replied. “Evokers specialize in elemental manipulation, which is why oftentimes they are the strongest mages around. They can command and control fire, wind, water, and earth, and their attacks can be fuelled by faith, intellect, and emotion, sometimes even all three. Evokers are powerful to begin with—Doom mages have ten times a normal evoker’s power.”
I glanced at Yarina. “But they’re rare?”
“Extremely,” Qilzid replied. “To have that much power inside one person…it can be consuming. Few are born with that kind of potential.”
“Of course that’s why Archmage Cyntria was tasked with eradicating their kind,” Yarina said. “They wouldn’t want a doom mage activating the seal. It would unleash all kinds of hell on Trysca.”
“The kind of hell that created the black desert,” I said softly, remembering the miles and miles of blackened countryside that I had frequently and thoughtlessly passed as a boy. Nothing could survive for long on that land. There were no birds or animals, no trees or water. It was dead, barren, broken.
“I never intended for any of it to happen,” Qilzid said, the ache of regret clinging to his voice. “I only meant for the seal to act as a tool for maximizing efficiency. Perhaps my ambition made me short-sighted. My thirst for knowledge overtook my common sense. But I wanted to do more, create more, discover more—I just wanted more, and I felt as though I could achieve all my goals if I had a boost of power. So I set about creating an instrument that would help me achieve what I wanted.”
There was a heavy pause. The three of us were intent and focused, we didn’t move a limb.
“Perhaps I did consider the dangers in creating something so powerful,” Qilzid continued. “Perhaps I just didn’t care. I was a young man at the time and my thirst for knowledge was great. Once the seal was perfected, I used it to magnify my magic and fuel my experiments. Word of my creation traveled through Trysca and soon everyone wanted to see my marvelous accomplishment.”
The cupboard doors and drawers around us shook slightly. Qilzid emitted a sharp puff, as if to shake himself out of it.
“As I said,” Qilzid continued, “I was young. My youth made me proud and my pride convinced me to show my creation to those who asked to see it. Then, one day, a young evoker stole the seal. He attempted to use the item to gain power for himself. He wanted to be king of Trysca. He wanted all of Trysca to bow to him. Trysca rose to fight, and the Apocalypse Wars began.”
“We lost half the countryside in that war,” Yarina said softly. “We lost all the mage hunters too.”
“Not all of them,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile.
The three of us sat in silence around the table, immersed in our own thoughts. I could feel Qilzid all around us, grappling with his elusive recollections. Yarina sipped the remainder of her wine and Winnie’s eyelids drooped slightly under the weight of the day we had just had. Using magic was draining, it taxed your brain and your emotions, and it could leave you feeling hollow and lifeless.
“You’re tired,” I pointed out. “Both of you.”
“I’m fine,” Winnie said immediately.
“As am I,” Yarina said.
“Rest a while. Archmage Barlin doesn’t sound like the easygoing type. We need to be ready for anything and both of you need to be in fighting form. A small nap might restore your magic and give you the strength you need.”
Winnie glanced at Yarina. I could tell she wasn’t about to agree unless Yarina did first.
“You’re right,” Yarina said at length, standing up from the table. “I’ll lie down for a short while.”
Winnie got up too and walked toward Qilzid’s bedroom. “It’s your lucky day, Qilzid. After all this time, you’re going to have a woman in your bed.”
“What makes you think you get the bed?” Yarina asked.
Winnie smiled at me as all three of her tails swished innocently behind her. “I called it first.”
I got to my feet. “There’s room on that bed for both of you.”
“There is indeed,” Qilzid piped up. “Feel free to relieve yourselves of those heavy clothes if that makes you more comfortable, ladies.”
“What would make me more comfortable is cleaning up a little,” Yarina said, looking down at her uniform. It was sprayed with blood and stained with magical residue that had left dark splotches on her trousers and along her sleeves.
Two pails of water and some washcloths appeared by the doorway instantly.
“There you are,” Qilzid said.
“Thank you.” Yarina grabbed herself a bucket and moved into Qilzid’s bedroom with a coy backward glance in my direction.
Winnie watched her go and turned to me. “I think you should lie between the two of us,” Winnie said, tilting her hips from side to side as she walked up to me. “It might be the only way to stop Yarina from running me through with her rapier.”
“Yarina would never do that.”
“I think she would. If it meant she’d have you all to herself.”
“You’re misreading her feelings for me.”
Winnie threw her head back and laughed. “Come now Kurt. You don’t believe that. Don’t insult my intelligence, trying to pretend I don’t know what I’m talking about. I know desire when I see it.”
“You would know.” I smiled. “Why don’t you wash up a little too.”
Remarkably, her scarlet dress was still intact. The edges of her dress were slightly torn, though, giving it an unnaturally high slit. Some magical residue clung to her caramel skin and part of her skirt.
“Are you offering to help me?”
I grinned and glanced over her to see where Yarina was. I couldn’t see her, but she could probably hear us.
“I don’t think you need the help,” I said.
“It’s not a question of need. It’s a question of want.”
“I can conjure up a more practical outfit for you, Winnie,” Qilzid interjected. “I don’t think that dress will survive another battle.”
Winnie looked down at the scarlet fabric and flicked a torn shred. “Shame. I liked this dress. Oh well, I suppose I could use something new.”
“Have a look in the dressing table in my room. You may choose what you like.”
“Thank you, Qilzid.”
With that, Winnie turned around and walked right up to me, and gently placed her palms on my chest. She sighed.
“Usually I’m the tease,” she said, pushing aside the fabric of my tunic so that she could run her fingers down my chest. “But I must say, I’m enjoying the chase.”
She leaned up on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss at the crook of my neck. I felt my body ping to life like a live wire but I kept my cool. She stepped back slowly and started pulling at the laces of her bodice, all the while keeping her eyes on me.
“Am I succeeding in tempting you?” she asked.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
Her eyes brightened, and she turned her delicious backside to me. She moved to the bedroom as she continued t
o undress herself maddeningly slowly. By the time she reached the doorway, she had removed her bodice, revealing the smooth skin of her back and the curving swell of her naked hips
She craned her head back to glance at me. “You can use the water and the washcloths,” she said. “I like being a little dirty.” She walked out of sight before waiting for my response.
I took a deep breath and sat on the workbench beside the alchemy station.
The air in the room turned muggy, and Qilzid’s cupboard doors made little creaking sounds with short intervals.
“What?” I asked. Qilzid was clearly poking fun.
“You lucky bastard,” he responded immediately.
I could feel his voice echoing in my ears, so I knew I was the only one who could hear him now. I chuckled.
“This day has been very interesting,” I admitted.
“You seem to be taking it all in your stride.”
“Panic never helps. Confusion, shock, fear, they’re all useless when confronting an enemy. You need to be calm in order to be effective and you need to be confident in order to be calm. You must know that better than me.”
“You remind me of myself. When I was a young man, ruled by ambition.”
“Ambition is not a bad thing.”
“Indeed it is not. But it depends upon the man and the type of ambition he carries. My ambition desecrated part of our kingdom. Your ambition might be able to save it.”
“I will save it. With Yarina and Winnie by my side. And with your help.”
“Speaking of help,” Qilzid said, while a hum started to whiz through the workshop. “I can offer you another upgrade; something that will strengthen you in battle.”
“Do I get to choose from the display cases by that wall?”
“Not quite. Tell me what you need, and I might be able to conjure up something that will help you in battle. What would you like—offense, defense, or support?”
Immediately, I thought about the thick armor that had protected the modification mages back in the lecture hall. I could not transform myself into an animal. I couldn’t change my physical form in any way, but steel skin would certainly help protect me in battle.
“Armor,” I replied.
“Good choice. I know just what to do for you.”
A gentle thrum filled the workshop. It calmed me while Qilzid worked.
After what seemed like a long wait, I heard a rattle.
“I’m just about finished,” Qilzid said. “Do you see the gray mirrored wardrobe next to my desk?”
“I do,” I nodded. That was what had been rattling: the door gently swung back and forth in its closed position.
“Open it up. Your gift is waiting inside.”
It was a double wardrobe with curved legs and a peaked roof. It stood at about my height and beneath its long doors was one long drawer. The handles were round glass knobs, so clear I could see my own distorted reflection in it. I pulled open the door and took in the armor that Qilzid had designed for me.
For the most part, it was steel-studded and made of thin black metal that gleamed with promise. The rest of it was fine leather that was soft to the touch. There were bracers made from slightly thicker leather embellished with silver and turquoise patterns. There was also a jerkin, a belt, and a harness for my axe.
“It’s magnificent,” I said.
“Try it on. We need to see how it wears.”
I wanted to clean myself off a bit first, so I retrieved the pail of water that Winnie had left by the doorway and stripped off my clothes. Then I proceeded to scrub the remaining vestiges of blood and sweat from my body. Once I felt reasonably clean, I set aside the pail and cloth and had a look in the mirror.
The burn the corrupt mage had given me in the library was still an angry blotchy red. At least it no longer hurt, and I knew that within days a fresh layer of skin would appear and drown out the scar. I had managed to avoid any serious injuries. Some might call it luck, but I knew it came down to skill.
There were a few bruises along my chest and collarbone, but nothing that wouldn’t disappear after a week or so. I ran my fingers through my short-cropped hair and tugged at my beard. It was slightly longer than I usually kept it. I liked keeping a close shave, one that followed my jawline.
“You can find what you need in the kitchen,” Qilzid said. “If you want a trim.”
And I thought I was perceptive.
A few minutes later, I had cut my beard down to its usual tidy self, and I felt much lighter. I glanced down, expecting to see scraps of hair, but the floor was clean as a whistle.
“I clean up well, don’t I,” Qilzid said.
I laughed. “You certainly do.”
Satisfied with my appearance, I started putting on my armor, piece by piece. The leather was softer than I had imagined, and it hugged my body like a caress. The metal breastplate felt like a second skin, and it seemed weightless. Once my boots were laced up, my braces put in place, and my axe hung from my harness, I stood in front of the mirror and cast a critical eye on my appearance.
I felt narcissistic even thinking it, but I did look good. I looked like a seasoned warrior, and I felt like one in the armor. It was attractive and easy to wear. It didn’t hinder me in any way and it gave me the protection I needed without any of the weight I had expected.
“This is really something, Qilzid. I couldn’t have asked for a better suit of armor.”
“It was my great pleasure,” Qilzid said. “I never thought I would ever be useful again. But here I am with a mage hunter in my midst. At long last, I serve a purpose once more. It has been a long time since I have felt like more than just a soul trapped in a ring.”
“You are more than a soul trapped in a ring. You’re Qilzid, the Artificer. In time, you’ll get your body back.”
“It’s not an easy thing you speak of,” Qilzid said, but I could sense the hope in the air and in his voice. “It will take time and effort, and more than a little daring.”
“Daring? I took on six mages today, and a necromancer from hell. I wouldn’t bet against myself on my worst day.”
Qilzid chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t bet against you either. I am glad you are here, Kurt Woodsman.”
“As am I. The countryside seems so far away from me now. As does the boy I used to be.”
“That is the greatest part about being human…humans get to evolve. That is what I miss the most…well, that, and lying with a different woman every night.”
I threw back my head and laughed out loud. I sensed Winnie’s magic stir as my laughter woke her up.
Soon after, she walked out of the bedroom in her new clothes. She was wearing silver pants that hugged her shapely legs, and a matching strapless bodice that was similar to the dress she had just discarded. Her jerkin gloves were a deep, earthy brown, as were her knee-high lace-up boots.
“You look quite the warrior,” I said, admiring her openly.
“Why, thank you,” she said, doing a little twirl for my benefit. “But my clothes can’t compare to your armor. Has there ever been a more beautiful sight?”
“Qilzid’s design,” I said.
“You look like a true prince.”
“I’m no prince. I’m barely a gentleman.”
“Oh, stop tempting me, you’ve made your point—I have to wait..”
Winnie looked to die for with her hair slightly dishevelled and her sleepy eyes. It was like an open invitation to come play.
I laughed. “It’s a wait for me just as much as it is for you.” I nodded to the bedroom. “Yarina?”
She gently took me by my forearm and tugged me along. “Let’s go check.”
Winnie and I walked over to where Yarina lay. She had needed rest more than Winnie had. Yarina’s magic was stronger, so it stood to reason that it required more effort and more energy to bring it forth.
I was loath to wake her up. Her eyelashes fluttered gently and her silver-black hair fell in wild waves across her pillow.
“She
looks so peaceful, doesn’t she?” Winnie said.
“That’s just what I was—”
Before I realized what was happening, Winnie had leaned over to Yarina and shoved her off the bed with one forceful move. Yarina let out a little scream when she hit the floor and looked around the room in alarm. I quickly moved up to where she lay and helped her up.
“Was that really necessary?” I asked Winnie.
“Probably not,” she said. “But it was certainly fun.”
Yarina narrowed her eyes at Winnie. “You insensitive b—”
“All right, ladies,” I said, stepping between them. “We’ve only got each other in this. Let’s try to get along, please. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Yarina’s expression was stoic as always and deeply thoughtful, while Winnie was still flashing her playful smile.
“Whatever you say, handsome,” Winnie said.
“Very well,” Yarina said, glancing at Winnie’s new attire. “Let’s go.”
I touched my ring and felt it was radiating heat. Yarina and Winnie stepped into place on either side of me, and I concentrated on opening a portal back to the Institute. Yarina glanced at me askance; her expression gave away only so much.
“We’ll see you soon, Qilzid,” I said.
“I guess the Spire will be heavily guarded,” Yarina said.
“I’m ready for anything,” I said, remembering the spellswords who had stormed the library under Barlin’s orders. I had to admit I was looking forward to punching a few of them out of my way.
I glanced aside to find Yarina’s eyes were still on me.
“Oh, and by the way,” she said.
“Yeah?” I said.
“Nice armor.” She rewarded me with her full, radiant smile, her eyes shining a bright, rich silver. A rare occasion, and a privilege.
I would take it as a sign of good luck. We might just be needing it.
11
The portal I created led us right back into the large corridor just outside the vandalized lecture hall of the Institute. We moved toward the large windows overlooking part of Spirit Falls and some of the smaller buildings.
A handful of mages in professor’s robes stood on the floating bridges that crisscrossed the waterfalls. Their hands were raised in strange movements, regularly emitting bursts of light.