Magium

by Chris Michael Wilson

  “What?” Leila writes.

  “The device!” I say, as I quickly pull the stat booster out of my pocket. “I completely forgot about the stat device!”

  I start to shake the stat booster, to make sure that it doesn’t have any water in it, and then I test all of the buttons one by one, to see if everything still functions properly. When Leila understands what I’m doing, she begins to giggle silently.

  “It will take more than a little water to make these devices stop working,” Leila writes. “Don’t worry, your stat booster is fine!”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, after I’ve made sure that the stat device still works, “I shouldn’t have interrupted. You were about to tell me how your father got captured?”

  “Yes,” Leila writes. “You see, the thing is that even if the hunts for outcasts were prohibited, that did not mean that the old grudges had been forgotten. The lessathi who worked with my father at the Beacon had been meaning to punish him for a long time, but they couldn’t do it openly. So what they did, eventually, was that they forged some documents, stating that my father had a huge debt to the owner of our house. They got the owner on their side, and he lied that we never paid our rent since we moved into his home. We didn’t have any witnesses on our side, while the lessathi had all the witnesses and the fake documents that they needed to prove my father’s guilt. Given that he couldn’t pay his debt, my father was sold as a slave, to one of the nobles of Thilias. I escaped before they could sell me too, and I’ve been living on the outskirts of the city for months, trying to find a way to free him, but it wasn’t until the beginning of the tournament that I got a chance to actually do it.”

  As Leila stops talking, I suddenly realize that I’ve been asking her all these questions, but I never even bothered to tell her that I’m currently travelling with one of her old colleagues from the Beacon. Should I tell her, though? Kate never told me anything about Leila before. She’s only mentioned Diane. Was this because she thought Leila was dead, or because she considered her an enemy, for being a lessathi? Either way, I think it would be better if I told Leila the truth.

  “I just realized that I never told you why I knew about the Beacon of Hope,” I say. “Do you remember meeting a girl named Kate while you were at the orphanage?”

  Leila nods.

  “I remember her,” Leila writes. “She always used to hang out with the elementalist siblings that were part of the lessathi’s elite task force. I heard that she was sent off to die in a distant jungle along with all the other orphans, after the Beacon got shut down…”

  “Well, your information isn’t wrong, but I think that it might have led you to some wrong conclusions,” I tell her. “Kate is not dead. She survived. She’s the one who told me about the Beacon of Hope.”

  “She survived?” Leila writes, as her face suddenly lights up with joy.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I met Kate here, at the tournament, and I’m currently travelling with her. Would you like to see her?”

  The joyful expression on Leila’s face slowly gets replaced with one of sadness, as she looks away from me.

  “I don’t think that she’d want to see me,” Leila writes. “I was being kept in a separate cell from the others at the orphanage, and we never got to talk much. Besides, I don’t think that she’d want to meet a lessathi like me, after all she’s been through at the hands of the lessathi from the orphanage.”

  “Hey, you can’t know that until you ask her!” I say. “I’m a lessathi too, and I’m still friends with her, remember?”

  Leila does not answer, and she keeps looking away from me, as before.

  “Alright, then,” I say, as I get up from the ground. “It’s settled! As soon as we get out of here, I’ll call her on the transceiver, and we’ll arrange a meeting between the two of you. Let’s get going! Your clothes should have dried up by now, right?”

  Leila nods hesitantly, as she grabs my hand, and I help her up. We leave the fire behind, and we head towards the tunnels beyond the wooden cabin.

  For the next twenty minutes or so, we walked in silence through the underground caverns, using a long stick that I’d gotten from the cabin to test the ground for traps. In the areas that were completely dark, we had to rely on our stat devices to light the way before us, but luckily the glowing blue crystals that we’d seen before were also scattered throughout these tunnels, imbedded into the walls, so we didn’t have to worry about the lighting, most of the time.

  As we advance through the caverns, we eventually reach a tunnel that has prison cells on either side of it, with doors made of rusted iron grating. Inside the cells, what we are seeing instead of prisoners are creatures of all shapes and sizes that are either growling at us menacingly, or studying us carefully, waiting to see what we’ll do. There are dire wolves, gargoyles, giant rats, harpies, griffins, and sabre-toothed tigers, all kept in different cells of the same tunnel, and something tells me that this is only a small fraction of the vast array of creatures that the arena’s owner has at his disposal.

  “They’re not guarded,” Leila writes. “I think that they weren’t expecting any intruders coming from this direction. This means that there’s still a chance we can leave this place undetected.”

  Leila takes a rock from the ground, and she starts to toss it into the air and then catch it, repeatedly, while she looks towards one of the cells. I suddenly realize that the rock she’s throwing in the air is just the right size to fit through the iron grating. With her maxed strength, she could probably easily smash one of those tigers’ heads with a single throw.

  “Now, the question is,” Leila writes, “should we kill these creatures while we have the chance, or should we just concentrate on finding a way out of this place?”

  “Forget the creatures,” I say. “We don’t want to risk alerting anyone of our presence, when we don’t even have a way of escaping this place. Finding a way out of here is much more important, right now.”

  “All right,” Leila writes, as she drops the stone from her hand. “Let’s get going, then.”

  We make our way to the end of the tunnel, and we both ready our daggers, while we advance into the next area of the caverns. As we now enter a much narrower tunnel, we can’t help but notice that there are two wooden chairs near the entrance which seem to have been knocked over in a hurry, and that there is a bowl of fresh stew lying on the ground, untouched.

  “It looks like we’ve already been spotted,” I say.

  “Yes,” Leila writes. “They’re probably waiting to ambush us at the end of this tunnel. Get ready!”

  Just as Leila anticipated, the moment we got out of the tunnel, we were greeted by six sharp lances pointing in our direction. The lances were being wielded not by humans, but by hideous monsters that were the size of humans, only with gray skin, long pointy noses, large fangs, and the appearance of savages. The monsters that were facing us were trolls.

  Trolls are not as smart as goblins, but they’re definitely smarter than ogres, and what is particularly dangerous about them is the fact that they have incredible regenerative powers. Unless you cut their head clean off or use fire to kill them, they can even grow back a limb if you give them enough time. These are not the kind of enemies that I was hoping to meet here.

  “Throw down your weapons!” one of the trolls says in the Common language, with what is probably the most broken accent that I’ve ever heard in my life.

  Leila and I exchange a look, but we hold on to our weapons, while the trolls seem to be growing impatient.

  “Throw down your weapons now, or you will be executed on the spot!” the troll says.

  Before we get the chance to answer the trolls, I suddenly hear Flower’s voice coming from behind the trolls.

  “Somehow, I had a feeling that you would be the source of all this commotion,” the voice says.

  “Flower?” I ask.

  As soon as I stop talking, a water whip comes out of nowhere, and it beheads all of the six trolls in a singl
e swipe. After the trolls’ bodies fall to the ground, I get a good look at Flower, and I see that her eyes are bright blue.

  “Flower is asleep,” Illuna says.

  She gives Leila a quick glance, before she turns her gaze back to me.

  “I see you’ve made a new friend,” Illuna says.

  “Yes,” I say. “I met her in the holding cells below the arenas. She’s a fellow gladiator from my division.”

  “My name is Leila,” Leila writes, as she extends her hand towards Illuna. “Pleased to meet you!”

  “Charmed,” Illuna says, in her usual disinterested tone, without showing any surprise at the girl’s peculiar way of talking.

  She then turns away, leaving Leila with her hand extended in the air, while she heads back towards the way she came.

  “What are you waiting for?” Illuna says, when she sees that we’re not moving. “Follow me.”

  “Wait, where are we going?” I ask her.

  “There’s a ‘friend’ of mine who I’d like you to meet,” Illuna says. “I think you will find that his purpose in coming here is rather similar to yours.”

  “What friend?” I say. “And what do you mean by ‘similar’? I don’t get it. What did you come here to do?”

  “Why, Barry, I thought that much would have been obvious by now,” Illuna says. “We came here to sabotage the arena.”

  Chapter 3

  Illuna’s friend was waiting for us in an area not far from the one where the trolls ambushed us. He was leaning on a wooden staff, with several dead trolls lying on the ground around him, and he was studying us closely, as we approached him.

  His appearance shocked me at first, but when I saw Illuna nod to him, I immediately realized that he was the one that she brought us to meet. Illuna’s friend was no taller than four feet, with fangs instead of teeth, a crooked nose, pointy ears, and green skin.

  I must admit that I wasn’t expecting this friend of hers to be a goblin, but given the fact that Illuna is a banshee, I suppose that I shouldn’t find it too strange that she’d have a few monster allies in Varathia. I’ve heard before that goblins are supposed to be really smart, compared to other monsters, but this goblin in particular has a very shrewd look about him, and his cunning grin reminds me of those slimy merchants that are constantly looking for new ways to rip you off. And he’s not trying to hide it, either.

  His high intelligence is likely a result of his old age, which I’ve heard is not an easy feat to achieve if you live your life as a goblin. Most goblins die young, either because of starvation, or because they get killed, while trying to steal food, in order to survive. Since they are considered monsters by other civilized races, they are forced to live from scraps, and often need to resort to illegal activities such as smuggling and stealing in order to get the goods they require. But this goblin’s skin is all wrinkly, which means that he must have lived well over two hundred years, given how slowly goblins are known to age, compared to humans. Living this long as a goblin, especially in a place like Varathia, is definitely not something that you can achieve through sheer luck.

  “Is this the lessathi you were talking about, Illuna?” the goblin says, in the Common language, as he looks towards me.

  “Yes,” Illuna says.

  “And the lessathi girl?” the goblin asks. “Is she from your group too?”

  “The lessathi girl is apparently a teammate from his arena division,” Illuna says. “I only just met her, myself.”

  “Hmm…” the goblin says. “If she’s a gladiator, then I suppose I can safely assume that she has nothing to do with Meridith’s group. I’ll admit that I was a little worried, at first.”

  “Hold on!” I say. “I never told any of you that Leila is a lessathi. You’re telling me you both realized that she isn’t human from just one glance?”

  “If your magical sense is sharp enough, you can tell the difference between a human and a lessathi with minimal effort, as long as you study their auras closely,” Illuna says. “However, when you’ve dealt with as many lessathi as we have, it becomes second nature.”

  “Are you sure that these two can be trusted?” the goblin asks Illuna.

  Illuna gives me one long look, before she answers the goblin.

  “Barry is trustworthy enough,” she says. “I don’t know much about the girl, but I don’t see any reason why she wouldn’t agree with what we’re planning to do. She is a gladiator, after all.”

  “Hey, wait a minute!” I tell Illuna. “If we’re talking about trust, then the same question goes for him as well. Just how much are you willing to trust this guy? To me, he looks just about as trustworthy as a swindler who would try to trick you into playing a rigged game of cards, on the main streets of Bagelberry.”

  The goblin laughs out loud, after hearing what I had to say about him.

  “I like this one,” the goblin says. “He speaks exactly what’s on his mind without making any effort to sugar-coat his words.”

  “To answer your question, Barry,” Illuna says, “I do not trust him at all. And he does not trust me, either. However, we are both smart enough to know that neither of us would benefit from betraying each other. The information he provides me with regarding the other monster races’ activities is invaluable, and in return, I’ve been helping him from time to time, by ridding him of some of his enemies, or by joining him in covert missions such as this one.”

  “And what exactly is this covert mission that you are talking about?” I say.

  “There is a minotaur being held here, in these tunnels,” the goblin says. “They call him the undefeated champion of the arena. You are supposed to be fighting him in the second round, provided you survive the first one. I want to make him an offer.”

  “What offer?” I ask.

  “I will offer him his freedom, if he agrees to join my goblin camp, and to be part of my army,” the goblin says.

  “You have an army?” I ask him, confused. “I thought you were just some random goblin that was acting as Illuna’s informant.”

  The goblin laughs again.

  “There really isn’t any limit to your bluntness and disrespect, is there?” the goblin says.

  “The goblin you are talking to is Fyron, the general of all free goblins,” Illuna says, in a bored tone. “He is at the top of the hierarchy of all the goblins from Varathia that are not under Tyrath’s rule.”

  “Tyrath?” I ask. “You mean the dragon that I fought on my second day here?”

  “The one and only,” Illuna says.

  “I am intrigued,” Fyron says, as he strokes his chin, and he looks at me. “I can’t say that I’ve heard of many beings that fought Tyrath and lived to tell the tale. How exactly did you manage to escape his wrath?”

  “Who said that I escaped?” I say.

  “So you managed to persuade him to let you go, then?” the goblin general says. “Or are you going to tell me that you defeated him all by yourself?”

  “Not by himself,” Illuna says. “He had help from a certain stillwater that I believe you are well acquainted with.”

  “You are talking about Eiden?” Fyron asks.

  “Yes,” Illuna says. “Eiden seems to have taken an odd interest in Barry and his group for whatever reason. I hear that the stillwater appeared out of nowhere in the middle of their battle with the dragon, and he powered up Barry’s stat device in a way that allowed him to cast spells. This is the reason why Barry was able to fight Tyrath on equal terms.”

  “What you are telling me should be impossible,” the goblin general says. “Unless the item itself is the one casting the spells, a lessathi should not be able to use magic by any means, because of the complete lack of magic in their aura. I did hear that the lessathi of old experimented with adding magical stats to the device a long time ago, but I am quite certain that they never managed to make it work. In order for someone to be able to cast spells by using those stats, they would need to have both the low magical frequency in their aura that is
specific to the lessathi, and the potential to cast spells. They’d practically need to be both a lessathi and a—”

  The goblin stops talking suddenly, looking as if he’d just made a shocking realization. Seeing the look on his face, Arraka starts to laugh, from within her amulet.

  “So you’ve finally figured it out, eh?” Arraka says.

  “You knew?” Fyron asks her.

  “I figured it out a while ago, after he started casting spells left and right, against a bunch of skeletons,” Arraka says. “But I thought he was a regular lessathi too, at first. Eiden is probably the only one who knew it from the start.”

  “So that’s why he’s taken an interest in him…” Fyron says.

  “What are you two talking about?” I say.

  “They’re saying that you’re a half-lessathi,” Illuna says. “A half human, half lessathi to be more exact.”

  Upon hearing Illuna’s words, Leila suddenly turns her head towards her, and she watches her attentively. This is the first time I’ve seen her react in any way, since the beginning of our conversation.

  “Oh, right…” I tell Illuna. “Now that I think about it, Arraka also called me a half-lessathi a while ago.”

  “It’s the only possible explanation,” Fyron says. “I don’t know of any other races that look the way you do, and as long as you are also half human, your use of the magical stats makes sense.”

  “To be honest, I don’t really care either way,” I say. “Being a half-lessathi doesn’t really make much of a difference to me. Besides, I have absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to use those magic stats that you are talking about. So far, I’ve only been able to use them for a very short period of time, and only after gaining access to a huge source of energy. That’s not exactly ideal.”

  “There is a way to unlock those stats permanently,” Fyron says. “However, doing so would require a code that is likely only known by a handful of lessathi, in the top brass of their organization. I wouldn’t realistically expect you to get a use out of those stats any time soon.”

  “So, uh,” I say, “it’s not that I’m not enjoying our conversation and everything, but shouldn’t we maybe get moving, before the trolls send more reinforcements our way?”