by Kyle West
“Hah!” Fergus shouted, in what Lucian supposed was the beginning of a new bout.
Lucian felt himself getting heavier, even as Fergus leaped high into the air, far higher than he should have been able to. Using his Focus, Lucian detected two streams emanating from Fergus – one that made him heavier, and the other making Fergus lighter. As Lucian struggled to remain standing, his legs buckling, he knew he had to counter one or the other.
What would Fergus expect the least? Lucian reached for Gravitonics, and instead of undoing the gravity amplification disc beneath him, he focused on the anti-grav stream that allowed Fergus to leap so high. His stream met resistance, but to Lucian’s surprise, the tactic was somewhat effective, because Fergus started dropping faster. Fergus’s eyes widened slightly, his only betrayal of surprise, but the captain regained control quickly. He was falling straight toward Lucian, even more quickly than before, which meant Lucian would be “killed” by him even faster. Lucian raised his spear to defend himself, but it was so heavy he could hardly lift it. Fergus landed on Lucian’s opposite side, where he placed his spear at his back. Lucian was so heavy that he couldn’t turn fast enough to deflect the attack.
“Not a good showing for Gravitonics, either.”
The pressure of Fergus’s Gravitonic Magic eased, allowing Lucian to breathe freely once again. His legs were still shaking from the effort of standing.
“You can yield,” Cleon called from the sidelines.
“Not yet,” Lucian said. He had to wait for his opportunity. If Fergus was testing him on each of the Aspects, eventually they’d get to Binding. That was when he’d show him.
But it seemed as if Fergus wasn’t interested in testing Lucian at his strongest Aspect. Next, Fergus swung his spear, but no lightning flowed from the spear’s tip. Instead, a kinetic wave pushed against Lucian, forcing him back to the terrace edge. He responded with his own kinetic wave, but somehow, Fergus was able to shield it. It went back and forth like that for a while, until Fergus started pelting Lucian with rocks. Lucian streamed a Psionic shield, which slowed most of the rocks down, but some still made it through his defenses. While under that barrage, Fergus pounced. Lucian could hardly defend against Fergus’s spear as it found an opening near his abdomen.
In the next bout, Fergus made Lucian’s spear so cold he couldn’t even hold it. By the time the stream was underway, Lucian couldn’t figure out how to reverse it. He tried to do the same thing to Fergus’s spear, but he felt his stream being countered, making it an exercise in futility.
He knew he should just give up. He was already bloody and bruised, and his ether nearly depleted. When Fergus’s spear became shrouded in lightning, Lucian immediately threw up a Dynamistic shield. To his surprise, that shield held at the first streak of lightning from Fergus’s spear tip. They danced around each other, energy shields up and spears wreathed with electricity. Lucian felt his ether fast depleting.
It was then that Lucian remembered Transcend Yellow’s axiom: the mage who ran out of ether first, lost. He didn’t know whose pool was larger, his or Fergus’s, but he knew it was the only way he could possibly beat the more experienced captain. Lucian weakened his shield. Fergus took the bait, his spear becoming awash with electricity. But just before he slammed the tip into Lucian’s shield, Lucian drew even more ether, strengthening the shield not only to match, but overpower. By the time Fergus struck, it was too late. The captain cried out at the nasty shock he got, almost dropping his spear as he was pushed back.
Lucian went on the offensive, collecting the residual energy of his shield into a lightning bolt that streaked from the tip of his spear. Fergus easily countered, somehow absorbing that magic with his own spear, then shooting it right back.
Lucian raised his shield, but he was already so weak. The shield shattered with a thunderous crack, and Lucian was knocked back a few meters. Fergus didn’t even bother delivering the killing blow this time.
“You’ve done him good enough, Captain,” one of the older villagers said, stepping forward. “One would think this isn’t training, but a personal vendetta on your part.”
“This isn’t over until he yields,” Fergus said.
Lucian seethed. When he spat, blood came out. He’d taken a rock right to the face during the Psionic bout. No longer filled with the pain-reducing effect of ether, the pain of it was visceral. Perhaps it was time to give up.
“We have yet to test my Binding, Captain Fergus. Would you care to go another round?”
Fergus watched him, seeming to consider. Lucian then saw his strategy. Tire him out with all his other Aspects before testing him on what he was good at. Perhaps he did somewhat believe him about the wyverns, but the captain couldn’t go back on his disparaging remarks. Perhaps the Elders had even told him about the Orb this morning.
But Lucian knew he couldn’t let pride get in the way. Using the Orb was like lighting a beacon, one that would attract the attention of the Sorceress-Queen. But surely, she couldn’t detect it if he opted to use only a little magic?
“Aye, one more round,” Fergus said. “Now, we will see if you were lying about those wyverns.”
They both faced off again. By this point, no one was making a pretense of gathering or watching the rift. All eyes were on the captain and the recruit. Lucian hadn’t made a good showing, but he could show them all with his best Aspect powered by the Orb. It was a chance to undo all his losses and prove himself.
Captain Fergus and Lucian just watched as a cool wind blew through the rift. When this had gone on about half a minute, Lucian wondered whether Fergus was waiting for him to make the first move this time. He seemed more guarded this round. That took great discipline, to not underestimate an opponent he had already defeated five times handily.
When Lucian reached for his Focus, a woman screamed. Shortly after that, one of the watchman was shouting.
“Slavers! Slavers in the Rift!”
Lucian followed his line of sight to see a contingent of men emerging from a cave at the bottom of the rift, just a few hundred meters down the trail.
12
Fergus took command instantly.
“Retreat! Everyone back to Kiro, now!”
Somehow, his voice boomed far louder than it should have, perhaps enhanced by some magic Lucian didn’t understand. Whatever the case, the Kiro villagers got the message instantly, taking their gathering bags and running up the trail in a coordinated maneuver that had clearly been rehearsed. Meanwhile, all the watchmen converged on Fergus, who now stood on the trail to guard the villagers’ retreat.
Lucian went to stand in line with them, with Cleon on his left and Fergus at the vanguard. He felt for his ether, finding that there was only a small reserve left. Having it out with Fergus had been the height of stupidity, but there was no way to come back from that now.
He would probably have to use the Orb, especially considering as many as fifty bronze-clad soldiers were marching out of that cave, their armor and spears glinting in the sun. At their head was a violet-caped man with a purple plume at the top of his bronze helmet, carrying a silvery shockspear that was already streaming electricity. Even from distance, Lucian could tell the man was huge. The others looked like children marching behind him. Directly behind the Mage-Lord, there were several more men demonstrating magical ability, too – about six or so Mage-Knights to match the three that Kiro had, each of them wearing colored robes over their armor – one green, two red, two blue, and one gray.
“Fafnir, Ewan,” Fergus said. “Get up the trail, make sure the villagers make it home safe. There’s too many of the Queen’s hoplites and Mage-Knights for us to deal with.”
The two men nodded and did as commanded. Now, it was just Fergus, Cleon, and Lucian left to guard the trail. The heavily bronze-armored, spear-bearing hoplites were advancing fast, though as of yet, the Mage-Knights hadn’t streamed any magic.
“How are your wards, Off-Worlder?” Fergus asked.
“Nonexistent.”
> “Never mind that. You use that rotting Orb you have or we’re not getting out of this alive.”
Cleon’s eyes popped at that, but he said nothing more.
“What do you want me to do, Captain?”
“Wait for now. Cleon, ward Thermal. I’ll ward Dynamism. Lucian, stand between us. Make the ward have a radius of five meters or so, Cleon.”
“That would right drain me, Captain. Might not have much left for active streams.”
“Do it,” Fergus said. “All we need to do is bide our time. If they advance, we can take care of the forerunners the old-fashioned way. Wyvern-Slayer will be our offense. Overdraw if you need it, Lucian. This is about survival, now.”
“They’re nearly in range for Thermal,” Cleon said. “Brace yourselves!”
At that moment, several fireballs streamed from the hands of the enemy mages. Lucian reached for the Binding Aspect, and holding it, could see the tethers that were drawing those fires forward. Opening himself to the Orb, he felt an infusion of fresh, unpolluted ether, and used it to reverse the direction of each of those tethers. He felt resistance at that – great resistance – but he simply streamed more magic, until the tethers did what he wanted, reversing the anchor and focal points. The fireballs paused in their paths and reversed direction altogether, flying back toward the enemy, exploding upon impact.
“Rotting hell!” Cleon said. “How’d you do that?”
“Get that ward up, Cleon!” Fergus said.
“Aye, sir. Something tells me these are not slavers.”
Lucian got the same feeling. His skin prickled as an aura of magic surrounded the three of them for a moment, then faded. And just in time for a fresh fireball to crash right into them before Lucian could think to reverse it. The ward diffused the fire’s energy, sizzling against the invisible barrier.
“Retreat!” Fergus said, pointing his spear outward. “Keep the wards up!”
More fireballs flew as the non-mage soldiers charged up the slope.
Cleon shouted in frustration. “As soon we turn our backs to them, they’ll overwhelm the wards!”
“Do something, Off-Worlder!” Fergus said.
Lucian was trying. Even if he had the power to do it, he didn’t have the mental fortitude to reverse every fireball being thrown at them.
“We need to get some cover,” he said. “Long enough for me to try to bury the trail.”
“That might cut off our farms!” Cleon said.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Fergus said. “Up to that boulder. And Lucian, you better stream fast!”
They charged up the slope, and for the first time, every single fireball streamed their way connected with Cleon’s ward. Lucian felt the heat of them on his back, almost enough to burn him. Just when the heat was getting unbearable, they dove behind the boulder. A peek around the side revealed the hoplites were even closer. Lucian had about thirty seconds to make something work.
Lucian wasted no time. He deepened his Focus and created a focal point on the trail itself, about twenty meters away, while setting the anchor point at the base of a high cliff above the trail. Lucian let ether rip through him, all of it drawn by the power of the Orb. More and more magic streamed out of him, until the Binding tether radiated with blinding blue light.
“Take cover!”
Lucian released the stream, and instantly, the ground shook from the sheer amount of energy Lucian had streamed into the tether. The tether collapsed the cliff in a torrent of rock and dirt, burying the trail in a flood of earth. Men screamed and died as tons of rocks made the trail completely impassable. The dust hadn’t even settled, but Lucian could still hear men approaching, clanging spears and shields in a blood frenzy. At least a few had slipped past the landslide and were mere meters away.
Fergus nodded. “We can take these.”
Lucian’s stomach seemed to do a flip. All of this was happening too fast. He had likely already killed with the rockslide, but now he might have to kill in person, and didn’t know if he’d be able to do it.
But there was no time to think about it or amp himself up. Fergus was already charging with a roar, with Cleon right behind. And Lucian couldn’t let them fight alone. As soon as he stepped out from the boulder, the air was choked with dust. Two bronze-clad soldiers charged from the grit-filled air, spears out and shields raised. Taking the lead, Fergus sidestepped the first while ramming his spear into the guts of the second. Cleon’s hands became wrapped in red light, and he streamed a small fireball at the first one. The soldiers raised his rounded bronze shield in time, eating the impact of the fireball with ease, even as three more advanced from the dust.
One broke free of the pack and charged right at Lucian. Still holding the Binding Aspect, he streamed a tether to the hoplite’s shield, pulling it toward the mountain side. Unknown to Lucian, the soldier’s arm was fastened to the shield, causing the entire man to fly up and away toward the mountain.
But despite seeing full well what had happened to him, the other soldiers charged forward, fanatical in their devotion and their eyes glowing with violet light. These men were possessed by a force outside themselves, for anyone else would have been fleeing by now. But Fergus and Cleon stood ready.
“Cover your eyes!” Fergus shouted.
Lucian did so without waiting for an explanation. Even closing and covering his eyes with his arms, a flash went off. He lowered his arm to see the three hoplites stumbling forward blindly. Fergus and Cleon dealt with what was left quite easily, making quick work of it. Lucian’s stomach churned a bit at the efficient butchery and was glad he didn’t have to do that dirty work.
“Let’s move,” Fergus said, after cleaning the blood from his spear. “If they have Binders or Psionics with them, they’ll be able to force a path through those rocks.”
They didn’t waste any time, running up the trail toward the tunnel. As soon as they had left the dust behind, a bend in the trail took them out of sight of the mages and their henchmen.
“Those are the Queen’s men?” Lucian asked.
“No doubt,” Cleon said. “And that purple-caped one I would recognize anywhere.”
“Who?”
“Mage-Lord Kiani. My former commander, and someone I swore to kill.”
“We’re not turning back,” Fergus said. “You’ll have to save your quarrel for another day. Lucian needs to stay alive. It’s him they’re after.”
Cleon gave no response to this, either because he had nothing to say, or they were getting quite winded running up the trail. When the tunnel entrance came in sight, Lucian couldn’t have felt more relieved.
“You’ll have to bury it,” Fergus said. “You have the ether for that?”
“He can’t,” Cleon said. “He must have overdrawn like crazy with that rockslide.”
Neither had a clear picture of how the Orb worked. “I can do it.”
Once they had gone a good distance up the tunnel, Lucian streamed the tether. Holding it, he ran with the rest of them up the stairs, releasing only when they had gained a good distance. It would not do to have the entire tunnel collapse on them, a possibility since magic could have unforeseen consequences.
With a thunderous boom, the entrance to the Greenrift collapsed, and the three men continued to run toward the Deeprift and freedom.
13
By the time Lucian, Cleon, and Fergus stood before the gates of Kiro, they collapsed such was their exhaustion. It wasn’t just the constant running uphill. It was the extreme fatigue from streaming more magic than he ever had in his life. Even if all that magic had come from the Orb of Binding, there seemed to be a mental limit he had surpassed.
He was in over his head, and he knew he was incredibly lucky to have not passed out or even outright killed himself. He needed more advanced training, but who in all the Worlds could teach him how to handle the insane amount of magic he had just streamed?
As uncomfortable as the thought was, his mind went to the Sorceress-Queen. The Sorceress-Queen,
who was apparently sending her soldiers after him. How had they gotten into the Greenrift in the first place? If they were truly coming after him, and Dara was weeks or even months away, then how could the Queen have responded to his presence so quickly? It didn’t add up, but Lucian was too tired to reason out the possibilities.
“Inside, men,” Fergus said. “The Elders must hear of this!”
Despite these words, Lucian felt himself fading. His vision darkened, while sounds seemed to come from far away. He heard Cleon saying something, but it seemed like another language from another world.
What followed was a long darkness, a darkness so deep that there weren’t even dreams. It was as if Lucian were dead. When he did wake up, he was inside a hut with a fire burning at its center, over which hung a steaming pot of soup. Lucian blinked, supporting himself with his arm. He was lying on a bed of some sort of woven grass which emitted a sweet fragrance. There were two hammocks across the hut, but both were unoccupied. The periphery was filled with various articles – pottery, roughly made stools next to a small table, tools such as a pickaxe, scythe, and fishing rod, along with amphoras filled with some sort of liquid, probably water or cooking oil. There were bronze spears and shields hanging from the wall, but one spear in particular caught Lucian’s eye, which seemed to be made from dark gray graphene. That was a genuine, retractable shockspear, the kind only forged by Academy Atomicists. Such a spear would have had to be brought here, somehow, as Lucian doubted anyone had the capacity to create one of its kind with this world’s primitive technology.
Lucian hadn’t been awake more than five minutes when Elder Erymmo stooped into the hut, his solemn face watching Lucian from the doorway. This must have been the Elder’s home.
“Elder Erymmo? What happened?”
The elderly man considered him for a moment. “You overexerted yourself. It can happen if you stream too much magic, too quickly. Streaming burns the body’s physical energy as much as it does ethereal.” Elder Erymmo was already ladling some of the soup into a wooden bowl. “Can you sit up?”