Questing Sucks! Book II (46 page)

“No, it’s just magic. It’s not alive at all. Such is the realm of the lesser summon. So far, you have seen two realms: the realm of the dead, and the realm of magic. Show him, Bennet.”

Archmage Bennet crooked his finger, indicating Sehn should come closer. Then he lifted his chin at the rat. “If you look closely, elf, you’ll see that the rat has been doing four things repeatedly and only four things. It spins around twice counterclockwise, squeaks once, and then spins clockwise. It does those four things and those four things only.”

Sehn was surprised he hadn’t noticed the pattern until it was pointed out to him. Indeed, what Archmage Bennet said was correct; the rat performed four actions again and again without pause—and nothing else.

“Because of the anti-magic nature of this place, I could not demonstrate something a little…flashier for you. But to explain as best as I can, it’s like this: a lesser summon is a creation of magic, not life. It can be as powerful or weak as you please, depending on its purpose. It is programmable magic from the very realm in which magic exists. And although it takes on the appearance of a living creature, it is without soul, feeling, or emotion. The word you used earlier…‘puppet.’ That is actually quite a good way to put it, Sehn. It is artificial, completely so.”

Sehn tried his best to pretend he found this to be of some interest, though it was a struggle. He clapped his hands dismissively. “Fantastic. Can we move on to the greater summoning now? Perhaps with a word like ‘great’ in it, I might find something worth all this time.”

Bennet gave an inquiring look to Issius, who shrugged. “We might as well,” Issius said. “It’s the greater summon we need him to begin learning anyhow. The longer we wait, the more time is wasted.”

“Understood. Would you like to explain first, Issius?”

“Yes. That would be best.”

Bennet backed away and stepped to the side, so that Issius could stand face to face with Sehn. The Holy Magus grinned in a way that seemed to suggest Sehn was going to like what he learned next. For the Holy Magus’s sake, he’d better. His life depended on it!

“The third realm is the realm of your soul,” Issius began. “And had we not underestimated Archmage Duncan, who clearly no longer has
his
, we would have called on our greater summons to defeat him. Things happened too fast for us to go down that path, and by our very nature we like to keep this as secretive as possible. However, there is one very important thing to remember, Sehn: just because we don’t show our summons in public view does not mean we do not frequently call upon this spell.”

“What do you mean?” Sehn asked.

Issius placed a hand over his heart. “This is where the ethics come in. One of the requirements, among many others, to be promoted to the rank of Archmage is to bring out your greater summon. Of all present, I believe Archmage Bennet’s is the most powerful. You see, your greater summon is a piece of your soul, which grows over time. Much like a worm sliced in two, it will grow back, and more powerful than before: it becomes a life in its own right, and in some extremely rare cases, it can even live on after the death of its creator as a free, autonomous being with its own will, hopes, and dreams. It is the creation of life itself.”

Nero gasped. “Really, mister mage?”

“Yes, child. Archmage Bennet is an example of just such a thing.”

“What do you mean?” Sehn asked.

At this, Archmage Bennet sighed. “I myself am a greater summon. My master died long ago when I failed to protect him. But by then I had already grown enough so that I did not follow him to the grave. I escaped the link with his soul and continued on.”

“W—what?” Nero asked, sounding alarmed. “Sehn, do you understand what this guy’s talking about?”

“Of course I do, Nero. I understand everything. Now, give me power!”

Issius nodded. “We’ll just have to show you.” He motioned for Archmage Bennet to continue.

Unlike before, Bennet did not place the blue, glowing mist on the sand. Instead, he released it into the open air. Immediately, it exploded into a flash of white light that was gone before Sehn had a chance to blink, but the sudden flash caused his eyes to hurt, as he’d stared directly at it.

Blinded by the unexpected light, Sehn could not see the result of the magic, but he could
hear
it. “Oohs” and “ahhs” came from all around: from the Archmages, from the High-Mages, and even from Nero and Rina. Then there was a lengthy round of applause.

“He’s wonderful,” said Archmage Uramore. “Truly, you must be so proud, Archmage Bennet.”

“Amazing!” Rina cried. “And cute, too!”

Sehn, blinking his eyes from the sudden light, had no idea what Rina was talking about. The confusion only lasted a second, however. As if he’d appeared out of thin air, a young human man around Sehn’s age with long, flowing blonde hair occupied the spot just in front of Bennet.

“What the…?”

Sehn couldn’t believe his eyes. Who was this person and where had he come from? And why was Rina blushing and hiding behind Nero?

“Rina likes him,” the little girl chirped. “He is like a prince out of the stories Cah’lia tells her. Can someone introduce Rina to this boy?”

Sehn was so confused and stunned that he momentarily forgot to breathe. What stood before Archmage Bennet was quite possibly the most other worldly human that Sehn had ever laid eyes on. The young man wore a bright, platinum-colored suit of armor that seemed to shine even in the dull light of this crimson hell. In his hands, he cradled a violet-colored helmet. With his tanned skin, his chiseled jaw, his impossibly straight nose, and his perfect posture, he really did look the part of a storybook character—if not a prince, then a holy knight of some kind.

“Someone tell me what’s going on here,” Sehn demanded.

The blonde man shook his long hair and turned at the sound of Sehn’s voice. “Why, hello there,” he said. “I’m David, and I’m Bennet’s familiar.” He extended his arms wide and stretched as if he had just woken from a long rest. “Hey, dad, you really kept me cramped up for too long this time.” He turned away from Sehn and now he faced Archmage Bennet.

“I’m sorry, my boy,” Bennet said. “I’ve been in a place where I couldn’t bring you out.”

The young man nodded sympathetically. “I can see that. To be honest, dad, even though I know and respect the rules, if you would’ve kept me sealed away any longer, I was going to come out on my own and see if you were okay. I don’t think you’ve ever kept me away this long.”

“I’m sorry. So much has happened.”

The young man’s expression turned dark. “Has someone hurt you, dad?”

“No, but they tried to.”

Drawing his sword, the white-armored man held the blade diagonally across his chest. “I would never let that happen.”

Archmage Bennet stepped forward and patted the young man, who called himself David, on the shoulder. “My boy, I know you wouldn’t.”

Sehn watched the conversation. Bewilderment and horror battled for control of his emotions. This was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen. It was enough to render him, the Great Sehn, speechless.

What kind of people have I involved myself with
?

As the High-Mages swarmed around Archmage Bennet’s greater summon and began admiring him, Sehn backed away a bit so that he could grumble angrily to himself without being overheard. It sickened him the way that everyone thought this “David” was just so great. What, with his shining armor, his princely smile, and his chivalrous mannerisms. Indeed, among the Archmages, High-Mages, Nero, and Rina, this “greater summon” man was a delight to behold. Except he really wasn’t. Because he sucked! A lot. Like a real lot. Like more than other things tended to suck.

Look at them
, Sehn thought, watching with extreme bitterness as the children joined the High-Mages in surrounding the summoned man and asking him questions.
What’s so ‘great’ about him
?
I am a far better and far more chivalrous warrior
.
I should challenge this summoned twit to armed combat
.

Sehn couldn’t help the foul mood he’d found himself in. Not only had he failed to make even the slightest bit of progress in learning how to cast his own servant-maker spell, but now he also had to watch Archmage Bennet gloat by showing off
his
stupid servant-maker or whatever it was.

He thinks he’s so amazing just because he created an armored knight out of thin air
.
Hah
!
So what
?
Big deal
.

Sehn wasn’t sure if it was just his attitude or a change in the environment, but the endless world of nothingness seemed warmer now, and sweat coated the back of his neck. It was becoming uncomfortable in here. And not just because of the sweat, either, but because he was tired of listening to Archmage Bennet rant to him about his “precious” summoned warrior.

“So you see, Sehn?” Bennet asked. He’d been speaking for a few minutes, but Sehn hadn’t been paying him much attention. The Archmage patted the summoned man on the shoulder as though showing off the sturdiness of a prized steed. “This is my son: my creation.”

“It is an honor to meet you, elf,” the young man, David, said. He bowed his head. “I’m a warrior of my father’s creation. Someday when I, a piece of his soul, can grow to become my own free being, I too will create a greater summon and continue his legacy.”

Sehn laughed at the fool. “Not quite, David. The only thing you shall be creating is a contract of servitude with your God-King, the Great Sehn. Bennet!” Sehn snapped. “I thought you agreed to show me magic. Instead, all you have presented before me is some pathetic boy.”

David frowned and took his eyes off Sehn, turning them instead to his father. “Dad, what…why’d he just say that about me?”

Bennet moved forward a bit, positioning himself between David and Sehn. “Ah…Sehn doesn’t mean that. He’s just—”

“Choose your words carefully,” Sehn threatened. “Should your next utterance be anything other than ‘the best’ or ‘the mightiest,’ I shall bludgeon your face in with the force of a thousand hammers.”

Now it was David who stepped forward, placing himself in front of Bennet, though judging from the way Bennet had to be gently brushed aside, the Archmage was reluctant to let him do so.

“Excuse me, but do
not
threaten my father,” David said, lowering his hand down slowly towards the hilt of his blade.

“Oh? Or what?”

“Or nothing. Please don’t speak to my father that way.”

Sehn scowled at the magically created fool. “I shall threaten whoever I want to threaten! In fact, just for that, I will now make a concentrated effort to threaten your father even more. Ah, unless, of course, you agree to pay the father threatening immunity tax. Otherwise, you will be forced to learn what happens when magically summoned fools try to—”

“Sehn!” Rina hissed, curling her lips at him. “Rina thinks Sehn is being rude to our new friend. Sehn should say he is sorry and stop misbehaving.”

“I should
what
?” Sehn asked, whipping his head behind him to look at Rina, who stared back at him rebelliously.

“Sehn should say he is sorry.”

“Hah! The only thing I’m ‘sorry’ for is allowing this vermin to live. Now, be gone from my sight. I grow weary of all of you.”

Sehn turned his back to the others, as it was too great of a reward to even look at them. With his back turned, he heard David argue with his “father,” Archmage Bennet, who assured David that Sehn was only upset because he wasn’t making much progress in his own summoning and was thus “taking out his frustrations” on those around him. This, of course, was complete bullshit. Sehn was innocent of such an outrageous allegation.

How dare Bennet spread these lies about me
?
he
wondered, considering if it was perhaps time to commit murder.
I never unleash my frustrations out on others
.
This is slander
!

How much abuse was he expected to take, anyway? Not only had they tried to teach him a defective spell, but now Bennet had to go and be a showoff in front of everyone. Sehn was more than capable of making his own greater summon. He just needed to know the
proper
spell to use and not this rubbish they were making him chant over and over again, which clearly did nothing. And even if the spell
wasn’t
defective—which it definitely
was
—it still wouldn’t matter, because there were so many distractions everywhere that he couldn’t remain focused long enough to figure out anything in the first place.

Maybe it would be best to leave everyone behind for a while and contemplate things on his own. He could venture out a bit; not too far, but enough so that he wouldn’t be bothered while he puzzled out how the spell functioned. As things stood, he wasn’t getting anything done—at least not with all these mages constantly harassing him. He would do far better on his own. Yes, getting away from them all was exactly what he needed. It was the only way he’d bring forth his
own
mighty summon.

With his mind made up, Sehn took one final look at Bennet’s minion then began to leave. But he only made it a few steps before yet another distraction presented itself, this one in the form of Nero. The boy approached silently from behind him, his footsteps muted by the soft red sand.

“Hey, Sehn, can I talk to you before you go?” he asked.

Sehn spun around to face him. The boy’s expression was thoughtful, which was rare for Nero. Usually, Rina was the one who did the thinking between the two of them. It was basically the complete opposite of him and Cah’lia; in their case, Sehn was the thoughtful one, and Cah’lia was the brash, unpredictable maniac without any control over her emotions or actions.

“What do you want now, Nero? Do you require knowledge from the Great Sehn?”

“Not…not really. I just wanna ask you something. Is that okay?”

“It depends. Do you have the—”

“Yeah, yeah, I have it,” Nero said with a moan. Sehn held out his hand, and Nero placed a coin into his palm. “Here’s your consultation fee. Umm, Sehn, I don’t think it’s fair that I always gotta keep paying these, ‘cause you never make anyone else pay them.”

Sehn grunted. “
I
will be the judge of what is or is not fair, Nero. Now, out with it. What is it you want?”

“I think…okay, are you gonna get mad at me? I wanna say something, but I don’t wanna upset you.”

“Relax yourself. The Great Sehn does not get ‘upset’ at the words of others. Tell me what you want.”

The boy inhaled. “I think you’re doing this spell thing wrong. And…I think I figured out why.”

The words hit Sehn like a blow to the stomach. “Nero,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Your slavery in the afterlife has just been extended by five-million years for assuming the Great Sehn is capable of making a mistake. Shame on you.”

“B-but Sehn! I worked so hard to get it down to just a few thousand.”

“Then you shall work even harder the next time around, you disrespectful blasphemer.”

“That’s not fair,” he grumbled. Then, with a pout, he spun around and began walking away. Sehn reached out and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him right back to where he’d just been standing.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Um, over there with the others.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me what you think I’ve done wrong?”

“Huh? But you don’t wanna hear it, I thought.”

“I don’t. But I must at least know what it is so that I can determine how much you deserve to be punished for having thought it.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense.”

“Of course it makes sense. Now, let me hear it, my traitorous, unworthy disciple. How am I doing something wrong? Speak your lies.”

Nero shuddered somewhat as though frightened. Sehn was glad to see it. He
should
be frightened after the heinous crime he’d just committed. Still, as a rational-minded super being with unlimited patience, power, and mercy, Sehn supposed it would only be fair to hear him out.

Before Nero could elaborate, however, Archmage Bennet approached, leaving his greater summon behind with Rina and the others while he strolled over by himself to join the two of them. Sehn didn’t like the way the Archmage was looking at him. He was up to something.

“Elf,” Archmage Bennet said. “I overheard a bit of what you just told this boy.” He nodded his chin at Nero. “Well, more than a bit. Actually, I heard most of it.”

Sehn narrowed his eyes at the Archmage. “And?”

“And…I suppose after having gotten to know you a bit, I’ve realized that you should learn to take criticism a little bit better.”

At this, Sehn felt his heart kick into action like the engine of the flying machine Wolly had built for him and Cah’lia. He turned his head sideways, and he blinked. He was in utter and complete amazement. For a moment, it stunned him. Then he snapped out of it.

“What in the
fuck
did you just say to me you old, unappreciative ass pumpkin? Did you…did you just suggest that the Great Sehn should take criticism? As in,
actual
criticism
?”

Sehn had a few more things he wanted to say, but his words trailed off into growls. The only thing stopping him from drawing his sword and cutting down the Archmage was the fact that, thanks to Duncan, he no longer had one. Honestly, this was all becoming too much. One insult after the next, the disrespect piled up on top of him, and Sehn was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of it.

“Do you see what I mean, my dear elf?” the Archmage asked. He spoke with a “sympathetic” tone that was clearly forced and insincere, and he regarded Sehn with a warmness that Sehn found insulting.

“Look at how upset what I’ve said has made you,” he continued. “Now do you see? All this anger…and just from the mere mention of it. Does this not make sense to you?”

“No. Explain yourself.”

The Archmage smiled, and it too was as forced as his tone of voice. “Essentially,” he said, “you’re cross with me because I suggested you learn to take criticism. This, to me, tells me that I am correct, and that you absolutely
should
consider learning to take criticism.”

Another rush of anger exploded in Sehn, this one enough to make his knees wobble unsteadily just from the impact of the emotional, hate-filled blast. “
Ffff
…
fuck
your criticism!” he shouted. Then he snapped his fingers. “Nero!”

“Uh, yeah?” the boy answered.

“Throw sand at this fool at once.”

“But, Sehn, I don’t think that’s such a—”

“I said throw sand at him
now
!”

Nero nodded, bent down, and muttered, “Sorry about this, mister.” Then he scooped up a handful of the red sand and flung it at Archmage Bennet’s face. The old man merely stood there and took it like a wimp. In fact, he did not so much as blink while it got into his eyes, nose, and mouth.

A few of the High-Mages who caught sight of this gawked but did little else; it was as though they were so caught in awe at what Nero had done that they couldn’t even react to it. Two in particular stared blankly at one another before shifting their gaze to the Archmage and then finally onto Sehn.

“Are you okay, Archmage Bennet?” one whispered. “What…what do we do in this situation?”

Rather than answer, Archmage Bennet stuck his tongue out. At first, Sehn thought it was a rude gesture directed at him, but he realized soon after that it was merely to spit out some of the sand in his mouth, which prevented him from speaking.

This, Sehn found to be greatly amusing. With a dark, satisfied laugh, he folded his arms over his chest, and asked, “What is it that the Great Sehn needs to learn to accept, Archfool? What was it again? I don’t remember. Remind me, slave.”

The Archmage raised his hand and wiped away the last bit of sand from his eyes, and then in a soft voice, he replied, “Nothing, Sehn. You already know it. I can see that now. In a few hours, you will realize this too.” Then, with another smile, he shifted his gaze to Nero, and added, “Help him, child. He’s almost there.”

“Me?” Nero asked.

“Yes.
You
.”