Catalyst (Book 1) (11 page)

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Authors: Marc Johnson

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BOOK: Catalyst (Book 1)
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After my mishap with the maleika, I read more about other types of beings who existed in the Netherrealm, or at least I tried to. The very few books Master Stradus had were either vague, or a bunch of dry theories on how, what, or why. After sifting through a lot of information, I realized that all the books came to the same conclusion: if you wanted to know about other worlds and beings from those worlds, you’d have to summon a creature from there, which might be very hard to control, and might kill you—or worse. Or you could cross over yourself—if you were able to, and lucky enough to make it back; or find a rare crosswalker, who could go into the Netherrealm with ease. In the end, I gave up. I had no plans to go over into the Netherrealm. However, if I ever saw that one-eyed monster again, I was going to finish what my master started.

----

Another year passed. A side consequence of my becoming a wizard was that my appetite for meat soon vanished, until I could no longer eat it. Master Stradus told me it was a consequence of being able to access mana.

I learned more magic and read a lot more. I studied more of the plants that were in the garden. Master Stradus was true to his word, and we regularly checked what happened in Sedah by using maleika. I wished my mother could have seen me or that I could have talked to her. Not even magic could help with that. I also got to practice other rituals.

As much as I enjoyed being around Master Stradus and Cynder and performing magic, there was something missing. No matter how many times I summoned a maleika or went outside the caves, I still felt confined. Every day, the walls and ceiling moved an inch closer. If that wasn't bad enough, the books I read, along with Master Stradus and Cynder regaling me with stories, made me wish I was outside of the White Mountain to experience all the things they had. I often thought about leaving, even though my training wasn’t complete.

Just to make sure, I asked both Master Stradus and Cynder about how my skills were progressing. Master Stradus was pleased with my progress, while Cynder thought I was merely adequate. I knew I still had a lot to learn from them, but being cooped up in the mountain wasn't going to help. All of my lessons suggested that people learned from the situations they encountered, not from being in a classroom. Even back when there was a wizard's school, students were deliberately put into dangerous and stressful situations. There was nothing like that here. I didn't know if Master Stradus designed it that way on purpose, or to shield me.

It had been centuries since Master Stradus last took on an apprentice. While his last pupil hadn’t come to as tragic an end as Tara, things went sour. Maybe he just wasn’t good with apprentices.

These questions and thoughts filled my head for months. I tried to weigh the cost of staying versus the cost of going. As I had found out the hard way when I first used my powers, it was a perilous world out there. Like poison, the doubt and introspection seeped their way into my everyday tasks, until they were all I could think about. Unfortunately, my lessons and studying were affected. I couldn't even talk to Cynder because he wouldn't understand. Being here was his honorable duty. He was our master’s guardian, and, because of conditions amongst his own people, he had nowhere else to go.

I tried to overlook these things. I tried to remind myself I could still be killed if I left without the proper training. But little by little, those sensible thoughts were drowned out until they no longer mattered.

And then, I had a vision.

CHAPTER 9

I sat crossed-legged on the edge of a ridge near the peak of the White Mountain. Nightfall engulfed me and the snow swirled around me. Often, after a day's training, I would find myself out here, escaping the confinement of the caves. It had helped at first. I breathed a little easier seeing the blue sky, the green forests, and the brown earth far below. But lately, being trapped so high above it all, I found those same sights depressing. The world's changing seasons reminded me that time moved on, while I was stuck in unending winter. The only way I knew time had passed was that Cynder teased me about my deepening voice, my sleeves exposed too much of my wrists, and I no longer had to look up at Master Stradus to meet his eyes.

Being outside also served another purpose. At first, I used practicing my power as an excuse to be outside. That's what I told Master Stradus I was doing. As time went on, my lie became the truth. Without my power, the weather would have torn me apart. As when I first climbed the mountain, I accessed my power and held onto it, letting it seep into every pore and warm my body. At first, it tired me just standing there. The more I went outside, the easier it became, until I sat on the ledge in the cold storm for hours.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the cold and frost that surrounded me. My breathing and heart slowed until I drowned the growl of the weather outside my body. I journeyed inside myself, heading towards the inner fire. The red and orange flame danced, moving and twisting like a firefly in the moonlight. It filled my very essence with its own. It was a strange yet familiar sensation, like we belonged together, as if we'd always been one. The flame changed colors, from a natural red and orange to an intense blue and black. The power surged within me. I knew I could do anything. But I was afraid the power would overwhelm me if I tried.

I held it for as long as I could. I got lost in it, and it became something else.

A baby eagle stands by his mother on the edge of a cliff. The mother nudges the baby with her beak, encouraging him to abandon the ledge and fly. The eaglet squawks in protest, but his mother forces him over the edge, sending him plummeting toward the ground. The baby eagle falls fast, flapping his wings in vain. The momentum is too great for him to handle. He’s going to crash into the ground. At the last second, his little wings catch the wind. He soars higher, higher into the open sky. He circles once, taking a last look at his mother, then heads off toward the horizon.

The eaglet changes shape. He’s no longer a feathered bird, but a bird made of fire, igniting the entire sky. His trail spells out my name as he soars towards me. He stares at me and gives an ear-shattering cry, shaking the heavens and the afterlife. He darts at my chest, burrowing and burning his way inside. I cry out as he fills me with power. Fire spews out of my eyes and mouth until I'm forced out of my trance.

I gazed up into the night sky, unsure of what I had seen. Everything I’d read about visions raced through my mind. Was I the eaglet? What was the vision telling me? A bright star streaked across the sky, and it looked like the baby bird.

I was still pondering over the meaning of my vision when another one flooded my mind. It was so forceful and strong I toppled over, face in the snow, and I blacked out.

The inferno erupts in front of me, gliding and floating in mid-air. I open my hand, and the fire leaps into it. I can sense its immense power, its scorching heat, and yet to me, it only feels warm. The flame rolls over me and caresses my skin. Its movement matches my breathing. I force my hand to remain steady. The fire disappears, melting into my body, adding its strength to my own. My inner-mana swirls with exultation. I no longer feel cold and alone. I feel alive and powerful. I can do anything.

My hand explodes. I hiss and turn my head to shield my eyes. A flame frees itself from my body and ruptures into a ball the size of my head. I stare at the renegade flame. It shifts and transforms, slowly changing into something recognizable. It looks like a human head but with wild, swaying hair.

The longer I gaze at it, the slower it burns, revealing itself piece by piece. The outline of a face appears, two gaping holes for eyes. The intense reds and oranges soften, peeling back until their colors change to flesh. The eyes burn hotter, hotter, until their centers grow blue, then purple.

And I recognize the face. It is her. She has haunted my dreams since the day we met. Drifting through my mind, planting herself into my thoughts until she gained a foothold. She has guided me in my most stressful times, helping me when I struggled with grasping a mana or saying an incantation. I have used her memory as fuel for what I have to do lest people like her get hurt. I have never known if I would never see her again, but I could never forget those soft violet eyes.

“Krystal,” I whisper.

The darkness crushes the fire’s light. The flame fights, burning as brightly as it can, but it’s no match for the darkness. The princess's face disappears. The fire changes, burning with dark flames. It contains hulking, ferocious monsters. They're drenched in blood, with bodies strewn around them. Innocent people run through the smoke, screaming to get away, but they're cut down by the creatures. I close my hand to get rid of the images, and the fire burns my skin.

I can't shake it off. When I move, it sears my unburned skin. I hold it still, fearful of the pain. It forces me to watch murders and mutilations, death and destruction. My anger increases with every child chopped down. I'm powerless to stop it.

Those images vanish, changing into a small figure cloaked in black robes. The fire in my hand no longer burns with warmth, instead turning as icy as death. A small flame splits off from the larger one. Two purple eyes stare from the small flame to the darker flame. The bigger fire swirls around her until it douses her.

“Krystal!” I shout.

The ink-black flames turn towards me. Two icy eyes peer back at me.

I woke up to find my cheek buried in the snow. I peeled myself from the ground and wiped the frost from my cheek. There was red on my fingertips. Blood—leaking from my nose. I forced myself to stand, head pounding.

I stared into the darkness, towards Alexandria. My bones ached with dread. The princess was in trouble, but I wasn't sure how or why. If Alexandria had fallen, we surely would have heard about it, even cooped up in the White Mountain. Wouldn’t we?

I thought about leaving the mountain to see if everything was all right, but what could I do to help the princess and her kingdom? I wasn’t combat ready. I needed to finish my studies. I tried to dismiss what I’d seen as an unhealthy obsession with that beautiful girl, but as soon as I did, the pain in my head returned and the images from my visions flooded my mind. I collapsed to my knees, blood from my nose splashing across the snow in front of me. I cried out in agony, clutching the snow. What was wrong with me?

I crawled towards the cave entrance. Each time I tried to get up, the pain shoved me back down into the snow. It wasn't until I let the visions flood my mind once more, and thought of going to the princess, that my jumbled mind became clear. The pain disappeared. I breathed easier. The agony was replaced by a moment of perfect clarity. I knew what to do. The vision was a sign.

I had to trust it. I had to leave.

Where I came from didn't matter. Who I was didn't matter. I was going to help the princess if she needed my help. I prayed to the gods I was wrong, and that my fears were for naught.

I went back to the warm comfort of the caverns, making my way to the little dining hall to tell Master Stradus. I took my time, because as much as I had longed to leave, I was going to miss the place. Assuming Master Stradus would let me leave. With his obsession about the prophecy he had never explained to me, he might not.

As I walked through the huge tunnel, memories raced through my mind. I remembered when I first met and ran from Cynder, times we’d played hide and seek, and when he took me for a ride on his scaly back. He liked to sprint through the tunnels, making me clasp onto his scales lest I go flying off. I learned to always hang onto him, even when he walked slowly, because he’d suddenly speed up again, sending me to the ground with a thump. And the sensation of soaring over the earth while he flew like a giant eagle was something I would never forget. I would never have dreamed that the vicious White Mountain that I knew had killed so many would become a home to me. A dragon and a wizard were strange company, but they had become family.

When I arrived at the entrance to the dining hall, I saw the web’s invisible strands and smirked. I could easily undo it with a touch of my power. How things had changed in the past three years. I walked in and found Master Stradus busy fixing dinner. My thoughts went back to the first meal I ever had with him, learning about the path I was to walk, but we each make our own decisions in life. He had even told me this in his wizardly way.

“Hello, my son,” Master
Stradus
said as he leaned over the black pot and inhaled the stew’s aroma. “Dinner will be ready in a second. Pull up a seat while I make you a bowl.”

I took the stool beside him and waited for my food. Normally, there'd be some kind of conversation during the meal, unless I was extremely hungry. This time I was quiet. I was the baby eagle. The need to leave was a gut feeling, boiling inside of me. The problem was, I wasn’t sure if I had completed enough training for what might be in store for me. If I didn’t know enough, I could be killed—or people could get hurt.

Master Stradus must have sensed the disturbance and conflict in me. He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t scrutinize. He once told me that it’s a wizard’s job to wait, but he must also know when to take action. After we ate, I took a deep breath and let it all out.

 
“Master, I’ve something to tell you,” I said.

He gave me a quizzical look, then smiled. “I thought you might. I’m ready when you are.”

I told him about the visions I saw on the ledge, and about how Alexandria might be in trouble. I told him about the pain I suffered when I thought about staying.

Afterwards, I said, “I…I believe I must leave this place.” I turned my head. I couldn’t look at him. What if he said no? What if he wanted me to stay because he was lonely?

He was silent, weighing my every word. I didn't know if that was good or bad, but then he said, “No. You cannot—you must not—leave.”

My eyes met his. “But why?”

“Because your training is not complete.”

“What about the visions I had?”

“What about them?”

“They're warning me about something.” I threw my hands up in frustration. “The pain won't go away. The more I think about staying, the more intense it becomes.”

He shrugged. “I can give you something for the pain, but what can you do about the danger you sense? You're
not
a wizard. You still have much to learn, Hellsfire. You can still lose control of your powers. What if you hurt those you try to help? By going, you could make things worse.”

“I—I…” I hung my head as I thought about his words. He was right. I could do more harm than good.

Master Stradus's blue eyes continued to bore into me. He didn't say one word.

I shook my head. No. I had made my decision, and I was sticking to it. I raised my head and looked at Master Stradus. “I'm leaving, Master. This is something I must—no, need to do. I hope you understand, but I'm leaving whether you want me to or not.” I stood. I was now taller than he was, but if I had to fight him with magic my height wasn't going to help.

Master Stradus didn't stand. He didn't even draw any magic, which I was thankful for. He reached for his tea and took a sip.

I clenched my hand while I waited for him to say or do something. When he finally spoke, his words surprised me.

“Would you like some more tea?”

“No.”

“Then please sit down,” he said in a calm voice.

“All right.” I did, but I was still tense. I expected him to do some kind of spell on me, and I had to be ready for it.

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