A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (33 page)

The orc roared and charged. Eric drew his scroll and
shouted, “Activate!”

A ball of fire slammed into the orc, but didn't break its
stride. Eric fired again and the orc charged through the blaze with white hot
armor.
Does this guy feel
pain at all?
!

 The orc roared and its battle aura intensified. It forced
Eric to his knees just as the ax came swinging down.
Move! Move! Abyss Take
It! MOVE!
The ax sliced the stone a moment after he rolled away. The orc roared
and pulled its ax back for another swing. Eric forced himself to his feet, mind
racing.
Fire's no good! Now what?!
He jumped aside as the orc took its
second swing. His legs felt like they were made of lead.
Steel's
vulnerabilities . . .
Duck. Dart between spiked legs. Pat out fire on
clothes.
The water scroll!
Eric's hand darted to his pack. The orc spun
with the ax head down. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he pulled out the
first scroll he touched.

“Activate!”

A stone column emerged from the floor and caught the orc in
the stomach. It smashed the monster into the ceiling and grinded it through the
rock before slamming it into the corner. Pinned in place it was harmless.
Whatever
works.
Eric shrugged and walked back to the pedestal.

You're not done yet.

Turn around.

Eric's blood ran cold as he read the second line. He ducked
and the ax whizzed over his head. He spun around and activated the earth scroll
again but the orc sliced it down the middle. Line by line the scroll's text
disappeared until the mage held a blank sheet of paper.
This is what I get
for using instant
! He reached for another scroll, turned midstride and
fired hot air. He groaned at another misgrab.

 At least it's keeping the orc at bay.
He reached
again, made sure it was water, unfurled it. The wind was weakening and the orc was
advancing on him. The armor had cooled from white to red.

“Activate!” A torrent of water gushed from the scroll and
enveloped the orc. Eric heard a number of satisfying cracks and creaks. He
furled the scroll and reached for another.
Healing!?
The third
disadvantage of scrolls: they're expensive. He was only able to buy one of
each. The only items left in his pack were his hook, rocks, food, and water.

 
Where's the Fire Scroll!?
He
saw it near the
pedestal and dashed with the orc in pursuit. The mage lunged just as the orc struck.
The ax clattered behind him and re-cocked. Taking careful aim, Eric fired. He
only got in one shot before he had to dodge another swing. He got to his feet
and fired a second shot. He jumped over the fallen stone column and fired a
third. The ax radiated white heat. He switched to the water scroll and
unleashed another torrent before ducking behind the column. The ax contracted
and snapped explosively, showering the room in debris. Shrapnel clanged off his
shelter and flew over his head. The orc was without a weapon.

Destroying the ax cost him his last two scrolls. He threw
them away and took out his staff.
Looks like it's just you and me.
The
staff grew warm in response.

 The orc jumped over the column and bellowed. It was without
armor or hand-held weapon, but orc skin was armor in and of itself and orc
hands were as good as clubs. Eric's best bet was to go for vulnerable spots,
but there was only one in reach. The staff sent a vibe of disgust, but Eric
told it that if he died it would be broken and used a toothpick.

He met the orc's charge, ducked to the inside of a swing,
and shoved his staff between its legs. It stopped, looked down, and growled.
Of
all the orcs in the world, I have to fight a EUNUCH
! The orc grabbed his
chest and lifted him above its head. Eric whacked him with his staff, but knew
it was useless. He'd seen Laharg walk off gaping wounds, but it was all he
could do.

The orc squeezed. Without the helm, Eric could see it
smiling wickedly. His ribs groaned under the pressure. His staff fell limp at
his side.
This is . . . it . . .

His vision went dark.

Instead of the abyss, the darkness turned into a movie
screen.
Have you forgotten?
The screen's narrator asked. The screen
showed Kasile tied up in a sack and being force fed garbage. It showed Tiza
fighting Kyraan warriors and Nolien making antidotes.
Have you forgotten
them? They who are depending on you?
It showed his friends in Ataidar
studying for an exam.
Or them? They who are waiting for your safe return?
It showed Aio dying in the Yacian Caverns.
Or him? The reason you are here
in the first place? HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN!?

NO!
His eyes snapped open. There was enough air left
in his lungs for one more strike. He raised his staff and it glowed with
resolve. With a mental yell, he brought it down with an almighty crack! The orc
stopped squeezing. Its eyes rolled back and it toppled backwards like a fallen
tree.

 Air tasted so good after nearly suffocating; different from
his first breath of this world but sweet nonetheless. It made him giddy and
light-headed.
And the wasp defeats the lion!

Once he regained his breath, he wondered how he was going to
escape his fallen foe. The death grip of an orc was as good as a tomb. He was
considering using his staff as a crow bar when the orc vanished. It glowed,
became transparent, and vanished. As happy as Eric was to escape, it was
undercut by his bruised ribs' sudden contact with the hard floor. O
wwow!

 
Rubbing his sides, Eric sat up and reached for the
healing scroll. Though a comprehensive list of injuries was too complicated for
a single scroll, particularly one he could afford, this one was made to treat
small common injuries. He located the text for “bruise” and activated it. His
ribs weren't literally bruised, but he hoped it would at least take the pain
away.

Minutes later, he could breathe without pain or difficulty.
Whether this was because he was healed or on a magical painkiller, he didn't
know. At the moment, he didn't care. He'd ask Nolien later. After putting the scroll
away and making sure he had all his tools, he returned to the pedestal.

So that is the extent of
your resolve.

Or maybe it is just your
will to live.

Regardless,

It is enough.

Stones scraped against stones and an ancient mechanism
groaned. The base of the pedestal shifted, revealing a spiral staircase.
I
hope this is it.

Down and down, and further down he descended. Mason-made
blocks gave way to eroded blocks and then strangely shaped boulders. He took it
as a good sign: less construction meant a smaller chance of traps. Then again,
the lack of construction could be a ploy to lure raiders into dropping their
guard. He held his staff before him and tapped each step before he put his
weight on it.

Basilard taught his students to stay alert at all times,
even in their own territory. He proved this by popping in at their respective
homes and firing mana bolts. Eric didn't do well at that test, neither did
Nolien, but Tiza caught him a fair number of times. Nolien remarked that, as a
former thief, she must be accustomed to looking over her shoulder. Tiza was
flattered, but refused to admit it and instead made a crack about his
carelessness.  

The bottom of the stairs led to a wider room. Although the
walls and ceiling were made of compressed earth, they appeared to be made of
gold. Eric stood at the entrance of a treasure room!

Gold coins and cups covered the floor and gold dresses and
weapons hung on the walls. Crowns and armor and scepters; all gold. The room
shined with it. Eric had to rub his eyes after being in semi-darkness for so
long. He walked slowly to soak in the splendor of it all.
I've never seen so
much gold . . . if I fill my pack I'll be set for life!

He knelt at a cluster, unshouldered his pack, and reached
for the shining, glittering gold.
No . . .
His hand, millimeters above
the immense wealth, hovered in midair . . .
I shouldn't. I'm only supposed
to take one thing to prove I was here. The rest belongs to Kyraa.

The coins would prove nothing. The gold armor and weapons
would be cumbersome. Then his gaze fell upon the gold dresses. He thought of
how beautiful Annala would look in one. He could just see it: the golden-haired
elf with her radiant smile . . . twirling in one of these dresses . . .

Eric shook his head.
I'm doing it again. Annala's my
friend, I shouldn't think about her like that . . . she's really pretty . . .
she's my friend!
He shook his head again.
The dress would prove I came
.
He gently folded it and placed it in his pack.

It wasn't until after he returned to the Pedestal Room that
he remembered he was trapped. He fought down his panic and decided the best
thing to do was look for an exit. He started with the pedestal. It was blank;
not even the text from before remained. Eric figured it was waiting for him to
show what he was taking.
He arranged the gold dress at the pedestal's base.

So that's your prize.

I didn't know you were
into that.

Eric blushed. “I'm not! It's for a friend!” He blushed
harder. “Just a friend! Really!“

Hahahahaha!

I believe you.

Go back to your 'friend.'

Hahahaahahaha!

Eric never felt he could he resent a pedestal.

I'd hurry if I were you.

He didn't see the text until after he heard the rumbling. It
started with the outside rim and crawled inwards. It picked up speed as it
came. Eric reached for a scroll, but stopped in mid-reach. The rumbling closed
in and he saw what was causing it; a collapsing floor.

At first, he didn't worry. Below was a treasure room, not a
bottomless pit. However, he underestimated the length of the stairs and the
height of the fall. Instead of
beautiful
, the sea of gold was
terrifying
.

Yanking out his grappling hook, he spun it in place with the
crumbling floor racing ever closer. He cast his lifeline to the crystal
overhead and it caught among the green arms. Without time to check if it was
secure, he pushed off the pedestal base.

Seconds later the crumbling reached the pedestal itself. It
fell to the sea of gold and smashed to pieces. Eric gulped and scurried up his
rope to the crystal's arm.
And now I'm stuck up here. It's better than dying
but if I stay up here I'll die anyway. How do I—

Crack
.

Eric crawled to the center, but the cracks were faster. They
raced past him and severed the crystal's limb. It fell from the main structure
into empty space and doomed Eric to a fatal fall; o r it would have if the gold
dress hadn't caught on a lower limb. How the dress came out of his pack,
remained attached to it, and tangled in crystal, Eric had no idea. All he felt
was a sharp tug.

Then, everything went black. He was still conscious; it was
the world going black. Everything from the crystal, the dress, to the treasure
room faded into darkness. Then Eric fell
up
. It was the strangest
sensation; to free fall in reverse. When he could see again, he was standing on
the Altar of Rebirth's ninth stair from the bottom.

He blinked and pinched himself to make sure he wasn't
hallucinating. He unshouldered his pack and looked for his scrolls and
grappling hook; all gone.
So it wasn't
a dream
. Unfortunately, so
was the gold dress.
All that and I have nothing to . . .What's this?

A crystal.

A clear crystal the size of his open palm, but the width of
his closed palm and shaped like an arrowhead.
Where'd this come from?
Eric turned the crystal over in his hands. It was fairly unremarkable, but it
was the proof that Eric had gone somewhere.
I might as well show her this.

Despite the fact that he'd been gone for half a day, the old
healer was in the same position he left her; holding the jar of Aio ashes.

“What did you bring me?”

Eric handed her the crystal. The healer examined it and
asked him why he chose it out of all the other treasures. He told her about his
adventure.

“I see . . .” The old healer smiled widely. “I am happy to
say that you have proven yourself. I would be glad to give you the power of
Dengel.”

She placed the crystal in her pocket and spun to the back of
her tent. Eric heard her rummaging through a bag and clinking glass bottles.
Finally, she gave him one. It was a clear blue bottle with glowing grey goo
inside.

“Drink this and you will be the same as Dengel.”

Eric stared at the bottle for a solid minute, savoring the
moment.
With this, I can rescue Kasile! I'll keep my promise! I'll protect
my friends!
He popped the stopper and chugged.

It was like swallowing molasses; the grey slime slowly oozed
down his throat. He thought he would choke but restrained himself. He couldn't
afford to waste a drop. Slowly, slowly, it entered his system. It reached his
stomach and went deeper. It reached his mind and went deeper still.

Where am I!?
A voice within his head demanded.
What is this place!?

This is my head
. He was used to hearing voices but
only Kasile's. This voice was neither feminine nor beautiful but masculine and
arrogant.
Who are you?

Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Greater Mage who
sacked nations. I am the Sage who codified the art of Magecraft. I am the
Scholar to whom all others are students. I am Dengel Tymh.