Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  “I assure you, sir,” Alastar said, “whatever misgivings I may have once held toward your kind are rapidly being replaced by respect and admiration.”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for you.” Garrett dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “If the paladin wants to throw himself to the wolves, so be it. And dammit, Estair, heal your leg already, or let him do it. I’ll not raise arms against him, not under these conditions, so you can all stop pretending.”

  “We were all drained after the fight to get here,” she said, but nodded to Alastar. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

  He glared at Garrett as he approached her and knelt. Head bowed, he said a quick prayer. When he looked up, the leg was healing and a room full of hate-filled eyes focused on him. They had lost too many of their brothers and sisters over the years to the magic wars to be okay with him being there, performing blessings such as this.

  “We go as soon as we can,” he said.

  “Let it be so.” Garrett turned to one of his lieutenants and said, “I want them equipped, fully prepared for the journey ahead. Let it not be said that we sent these two to their deaths without preparing them first.”

  “Three,” Donnon said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I need to return to my clan. I came for a healer, and, it would seem, I have one, if Alastar will come with me.”

  “And lead the sorcerers right to your doorstep?” Garrett shook his head. “That’s your funeral you’re asking for.”

  “Not if we make it undiscovered. It’s well worth the risk.”

  “What could be worth bringing the wrath of these sorcerers down upon your people?”

  Donnon gulped, his eyes revealing the fact that he had a difficult time answering that, but with a sideways glance toward Rhona finally said, “It’s my daughter.”

  Alastar noted the frown that crossed Rhona’s face, but there was something not adding up that pulled at his attention. “A man’s love for his daughter is strong, I can only imagine. But worth risking the entire clan over?”

  “If there was a clan left, that might be a question worth considering,” Donnon replied. “But it’s worse than you think. My little Kia, she… has the black marks.”

  “The plague…” Estair took a deep breath. “The clan has abandoned you two?”

  “All but two of them, who I fear will have contracted the plague by the time I return. If I don’t have a healer with me, all three will likely die.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Rhona said, answering for all of them.

  Alastar nodded. “It’s settled.”

  He had heard of this plague spreading throughout the highlands. There was even talk among the Order of Rodrick that it was the Saint sending down punishment on the magic users.

  How could he accept that now, though? Now that his sister was one of them, and these people who had risked their lives for theirs were, too?

  One thing was clear now—these men and women were no longer his enemy, and if he could repay them for the assistance they had provided, he certainly would.

  Garrett nodded to his lieutenant, who had not yet moved, but now scampered off to carry out the order. Next, the large man turned to Alastar and Rhona and said, “If you pull this off, the next time we meet will be as friends.”

  Alastar gave him a curt nod. “Let’s hope we pull it off then.”

  In the silence that followed, the howling winds mixed with pounding and shrieks from the remnant, and Alastar felt his hand clenching and unclenching as he wished to run out and take his sword to as many of those beasts as he could.

  The sooner the better, in his opinion. When the lieutenant returned and said they were ready for him, he nodded to the room and was glad to put it behind him.

  He, Rhona, and Donnon followed the man through passages that smelled of old wood, rattled with icy bursts that made their way in past the wind spells. They stopped when they reached the armory, where the lieutenant fitted Alastar with leather plates complete with pauldrons for the shoulders and arms, and a tasset belt with a hanging plate to protect the groin.

  “Nothing… stronger?” Alastar asked.

  The lieutenant shook his head. “Not that you’d be able to run in.”

  “Good point.”

  They fitted Rhona in similar attire, though, better made for a woman. She looked the highlander warrior part, with her leather armor over the green dress, now taken in to allow for better running. The lieutenant fitted them each with plaid cloaks that hung over their shoulders to protect them from the cold during the day, and to be used as blankets at night. Alastar cringed at the idea of wearing plaid, but was glad to see it was at least a neutral brown and green, not likely to associate him with any of the major clans who were in ongoing wars with the Order of Rodrick, should any of them have survived.

  Donnon had already been equipped, but found himself two flame swords, as he called them, looking over them with awe. Each had a handle that shone with gold and a blade that curved up to the end, so that it resembled an arc of flame. He said the swords must’ve been recovered from one of his kin.

  “Aye, they were,” the lieutenant said. “We’ve had a few members of Clan Buchan join us in raids over the years. More than one fell along the way.”

  Donnon swung one of the blades and then strapped on the sheaths so that he could take both with him. “I won’t be falling anytime soon, you can count on that. Not with these two companions at my back.”

  “At your side,” Rhona corrected him.

  The lieutenant grunted.

  “Do you have a problem with this situation?” Alastar asked.

  Ignoring him, the lieutenant kept his eyes on Donnon as he said, “You’d never see me putting my life in the hands of a paladin. Especially not the life of my daughter, if I had one.”

  “If you had one,” Donnon said, “you would soon realize that you would do anything to protect her. Anything. Add to that the fact that these two have proven themselves more than once, and I would have to question anyone’s intelligence to not trust them.”

  The lieutenant huffed and walked from the room, pausing in the doorway to say, “For your sake, I hope you’re right.”

  After he had left, Donnon smiled at the two, hands on his two sword hilts, and said, “I know I am.”

  “We’ll get to your daughter and do what we can,” Rhona said, and Alastar nodded in agreement.

  “Then let’s get out there and kick some remnant butt.”

  11

  It was weird, smelling the scent of death and hearing the sounds of warfare before the real fighting had even begun. Rhona stood at the top of the castle walls. Spells of fire and wind that the mages created flew out to attack the remnant, laying siege to the walls below. Whenever one fell, two more seemed to rise up in their place.

  “Where are they all coming from?” Donnon asked in amazement.

  “My best bet?” Alastar shouted over the winds. “They’ve come across from Sair Talem.”

  Rhona’s heart clenched at the thought. She had heard stories about the people who still remained on the large island to the west, men and women whose recovery after the Age of Madness had left them in a state of constant ferocity, and a lust for death and destruction.

  “What matters now isn’t how they got here,” Garrett said, standing behind them with an army of his wind mages in their blue and white colors, standing at the ready, “it’s that you kill as many of the damned beasts as you can.”

  “We’ll make them reconsider ever setting foot here again,” Alastar said.

  “If only they were capable of rational thought,” Donnon said. “I fear we’ll have to kill every last one of them if we ever hope to have a land free of remnant.”

  “Let’s get started then,” Alastar said, drawing his sword.

  “You asked for it,” Garrett said, and he raised a fist.

  “Wait,” Estair said, climbing the stairs to reach them. She came to Alastar and looked between him and Rhona. “If y
ou ever need shelter or help, do not hesitate to come to me.”

  “Thank you,” Alastar said, and to Rhona’s surprise the woman gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  Alastar blushed and kissed her hand.

  “No kisses necessary,” Rhona said when Estair looked her way, earning her a laugh from the woman. She shared a look of excitement with her brother.

  Volney and Larick’s eyes both went white and Volney said, “Now!”

  The army of remnant below turned as one, like a swarm of bees homing in for their new target.

  Garrett’s fist pushed forward.

  As one, his soldiers moved their hands in a circle and then motioned up and forward, as if lifting something into the air. Sure enough, the wind grabbed ahold of Alastar, Rhona, and Donnon, and carried them into the sky.

  It was like they were flying, the wind soaring past, throwing them forward. Blasts of ice were pushed aside as an invisible fist broke through the sky and created a path for them, and then they were landing, the ground and the remnant coming up fast beneath.

  “Swords at the ready!” Alastar shouted, and even Rhona had a dirk in one hand, a small shield in the other. It wasn’t much, but she had figured it could be useful and was fairly lightweight.

  Faces turned, teeth bared in snarls. She could see the red in their eyes, the glints of sunlight on their dull weapons, and then they hit the ground and the insanity began.

  Lokane’s squad of fighters landed off to the right, so that the remnant were thrown into a confused state. Alastar hacked through one after another of the marauding hoard, clearing a circle while Donnon clicked his flint rock, creating a wall of flame from just a spark that spread out before them, creating an opening in the ranks.

  “GO!” he shouted, keeping the walls of fire on each side, but leaving a path clear through the middle for them to run through.

  The stench of scorched remnant filled the air, the smoke choking Rhona as she ran. One of them pushed in through the flames, burning as it lifted its hatchet. It nearly had Rhona, but she hefted up the shield at her side and charged. She slammed it back into the flames, where it collapsed on its back, twitching once before she was past it, her chest thumping with the adrenaline and terror.

  No, not terror, she realized. She was excited! Not only had she just survived the attack, she had kicked its butt!

  While she was partly scared for her life, she almost wanted another one of them to attack her. She ran along behind Alastar, and then smiled at the sight of three remnant leaping over the backs of the others to reach them.

  Donnon was stumbling in exhaustion from keeping the flames up, and Alastar had turned to fight another group of remnant that had fought their way through. This was up to Rhona.

  With a smile, she let instinct take over and, as before, the shadows carried her. It was like one moment she was herself, the next she was a shadow darting through the air.

  It was like she was barely there as she materialized long enough to tear out the throat of one of them, then was gone again before slamming into another. She was flying forward, her dirk cutting into the base of one’s skull, blood splattering as she pulled the blade free.

  And then she was back, wavering, and the knife flew out of her hands as the shadow took it, plunging the blade into the creature’s chest. When the knife flew back to her, the shadow entered her and was gone.

  The last of these three remnant fell to its knees, gone.

  “The hell was that?” Donnon asked, having turned to see the tail end of the attack.

  Problem was, he wasn’t the only one to have noticed.

  Using her magic had put the target back on her, and now all of the remnant were converging on her with fervor.

  Not that she cared, as she watched the world take on a purple hue. She wavered, head spinning, but there were more of them. She let the shadow take her blade to the nearest attackers, and even before it had zipped through the necks of a dozen of them, she had burst into her shadow form and reappeared beside her brother.

  He took her in with wide eyes, and said, “By all that is holy…”

  She tried to say something, but zipped off again before he could answer, forming shadows at the feet of a group of remnant that absorbed them so that they sunk right through the ground and were gone. At the edge of the flames, she reappeared and grabbed the dirk from the air as it flew past, then spun and saw both Donnon and Alastar nearby.

  The wind flew past her as she drifted into a shadow form that grabbed ahold of the two men, and then suddenly they were all three pulled free of the chaos that was the midst of the remnant.

  She set them down at the outskirts of the rampaging horde, then lifted her hand to see what else this new magic could do. Her dress was torn, hanging in tatters, and her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Blood dripped down her face, from her nose.

  An army of remnant tilted before her, and a moment later the stony earth beneath her feet rose up to slam into her face.

  With a moan, everything started to go black.

  “Not so fast,” Alastar said, hefting her up as a golden glow emanated from his hands and shone in his eyes.

  “Get her out of here,” Donnon said. “I’ll hold them off!”

  “You’re coming with us,” Alastar said, and sheathed his sword as he and Rhona helped each other to stand. “Otherwise, we’ll never make it.”

  Donnon turned with a raised eyebrow, doubtful, but nodded. He released the flames, eyes turning back to normal, and ran as best he could to catch up with them.

  “We’re all weak,” Alastar said. “We’ll never make it!”

  “I wouldn’t be so quick to doubt!” a new voice said, and they turned to see Lokane and four of his fighters coming up behind them. “Make it to the tunnels, then double back and head north so they can’t find you. But, Rhona, for the love of the spirits, do not use your magic.”

  “Deal,” she muttered, barely able to get the words out, and they ran. The sounds of fighting rose behind them as they reached the hillside below and disappeared into the darkness of the first tunnel entrance they came across.

  12

  Running through the dark tunnels again didn’t exactly thrill Alastar, especially with the fact that they were all lacking energy after their narrow escape.

  They had been at it for over an hour now, and each dark turn put him further on edge. Donnon’s breathing came loud and raspy behind them, while Rhona stumbled on the verge of passing out.

  “I—I need a minute,” she said, pulling her arm free from his and leaning against the tunnel wall. She slid down it so that she could sit.

  “They’re back there, somewhere.” Alastar nodded to Donnon whose relieved expression showed he was more than happy to join them. “If we stop now—”

  “If we don’t, we die,” Rhona said. “If they were to catch us in this state, none of us could put up a fight.”

  Alastar leaned against the opposite wall, knowing she was right. They needed rest if they hoped to face whatever challenges awaited them.

  He lowered his head and prayed for a blessing of restoration, but only a soft glow covered them, barely noticeable. Still, Donnon let out a small gasp of relief, and Rhona’s tired eyes looked slightly more awake—or maybe it was just the effect of the glow, highlighting her face.

  When had she become so grownup? He couldn’t believe that in the last day or so she had gone from his innocent, kind-hearted little sister to this woman who he felt he didn’t really know anymore.

  A thump sounded, echoing in the darkness beyond, back through the tunnels. Then a scurrying of feet, Alastar was certain. But as he held up a hand for silence and cocked his head to hear, no more sounds came.

  Finally, he lowered his hand and shrugged.

  “It’s your nerves,” Donnon said with a smile. “They’ll get you every time.”

  Again, they sat in silence for a moment, until another sound startled Alastar. Only this time, it was coming from Rhona.

  She
was laughing.

  “Are you… losing it?” he asked.

  With a wave of her hand, she pushed herself up and let the laugh fade into a chuckle. “No, no, it’s just… We were amazing!”

  He just stared at her, then shook his head. “Yeah, you’re gone. I’ve lost my sister to insanity.”

  “Not in the slightest.” She held her hands in the air and said, “I’m loving it!”

  “Can we keep our voices down?” Donnon pleaded with a nod back the way they had come.

  “Bring ‘em on. This place is all shadows, right? Imagine what I could do down here!”

  “So, that’s what it is then?” Alastar asked. “Your shadow magic, and me with my light.”

  “You admit it’s magic?” Donnon stood now, too. “This denial thing is behind us?”

  “First, it’s not a ‘denial thing,’ it’s my religion. Second, I’m not saying that what I do is magic. I was just pointing out that the blessing of Saint Rodrick clearly comes with a light element, while we’re agreeing that Rhona’s spells have a shadow element.”

  “It’s pretty amazing,” Rhona interjected. “I mean, imagine if we could figure out a way to not have the magic drain us… what we’d be capable of.”

  “Again, not we… I don’t do magic.”

  “How can you still detest the idea of it, after everything?”

  Alastar glared. “For all I know, you’re in the process of turning evil, but just aren’t there yet.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “So, I’m evil, too?” Donnon asked, irritation heavy in his voice.

  “I don’t know!” Alastar shouted in frustration. “All I know is, my whole life I’ve been taught that magic is evil. Then suddenly, my sister can do it, and so I’m supposed to throw my beliefs into the embers and watch them burn?”

  Rhona took a step over to Donnon’s side, the two of them making a perfect pair with their protruding jaws and furrowed brows. So what if they didn’t like what he had to say. It was the truth, and a paladin must always speak the truth.