The Sorcerer's Abyss (The Sorcerer's Path) (55 page)

He opened his eyes and returned to the reality of the present when he felt Lissandra pull away the gem. Azerick’s entire body trembled with pent up emotion desperately seeking release and his breath came in ragged gasps.

“Why did you stop?” Azerick asked.

“It is enough for today.”

“I thought you said it would be horrible, that what I saw would torment me. These memories are wonderful. I remember my father and mother and the love they hold for me.”

“And that is why I chose this point to stop. I want you to imprint them into your mind fully. Tomorrow, the pain begins and you will need these joyous memories to bear it. When the pain becomes more than you think you can bear, you need to focus on these few pleasant memories and hold them tightly within your heart.”

Once again, Lissandra warned him of impending emotional angst. Azerick wondered what could have happened in his life that would cause her so much concern and prompt such continued warnings. Was it the events of his life that were so terrible or just the process of retrieving them? These first happy memories were certainly intense, and the unpleasant ones would most likely be equally strong, but could they be so bad they threatened to overwhelm him? Was it the things he saw and experienced that concerned Lissandra so greatly or the things he had done? She had pulled him from the abyss, a place for the souls of the damned. Was he evil? Did the Guardian fear he would return to his vile ways when he learned who he truly was?

Wonderful images of Azerick sailing with his father filled his dreams that night. He felt the salt spray upon his face and the taste of it upon his lips. He hastened across the gently rolling deck of the ship, carrying out his father’s instructions with zeal. In another scene, his mother sat with him as he studied from a book, helping him with the harder words and answering his many questions. When he woke, he saw the face of his mother for the briefest moment upon Lissandra’s countenance.

“Today is when the true test of your resolve begins,” Lissandra said. “Are you ready?”

Azerick nodded and the Guardian again touched the crystal to his forehead and began softly chanting. Azerick felt himself slip away into the familiar dreamlike state and watched as the images began pouring in. Watching his life unfold at such an incredible speed should have made it impossible to comprehend, but his mind absorbed every image, sense, and emotion like a sponge.

Azerick gasped and jerked violently as he experienced the loss of his father, mother, and home. He was able to recall his emotions the first time the tragedy struck. He experienced the agony again but compounded several fold. The first time his parents died, he had time to process his emotions before facing the next horror in his life. Now those heart-rending moments came at him with crystal clarity and no time to mourn, process, and overcome his turmoil.

He tried to conjure the images and joyful feelings he felt yesterday, but the torment he felt now overwhelmed them and crushed him beneath its oppressive emotional weight. Azerick writhed in agony as he suffered a seemingly unending barrage of pain and misery-inducing events.

Lissandra finally relented when Allister took Azerick in to join The Academy. It was the happiest moment of his life after the death of his father, and he was grateful for the memory. He clung to it as he wept; trying to take comfort in the memory of his mother’s loving arms and his father’s strong, protective hands.

There was another source of strength as well. It was something deeper and more personal, a well of power growing from somewhere far beyond himself. It, more than anything, was what defined, shaped, and drove him. Azerick dipped his mind and soul into the silver essence of the Source and let it envelop him. His skin flushed from the shame he felt from feeling more comfort in his magic than in the caring arms of his loved ones. It was the first moment Azerick truly began to understand who and what he was.

If his experiences that day were terrible, the next proved to be unimaginable. Travis’ death was only moderately difficult to accept and troubling mostly due to having to leave The Academy. Even his capture by the psylings, although terrifying, was not nearly as devastating as what he felt at the death of his family and friends.

It was difficult beyond imagining, but Azerick felt he could weather the session’s emotional assaults—until Xornan murdered his beloved Delinda. The tormented sorcerer bolted upright, a scream of anguish and rage tearing from his throat. He slapped Lissandra’s hand away, sending the jewel flying from her grip.

Azerick pushed the Guardian’s steadying hands away and rolled out of the bed and onto the floor. With another primal scream, he scrambled to his feet and ran from the room. He sprinted across the large central chamber and ran for the archway opening directly to the open air of Lissandra’s cliffside home.

Just as Azerick reached the opening and leapt to throw himself into the empty void more than ten thousand feet above the valley floor, magical strands wrapped around his body and jerked him back into the room and pinned him to the floor.

“No!” Azerick futilely tried to claw his way to the precipice. “Let me go! I cannot do this. Please, no more. For the love of the gods, no more!”

Lissandra laid a comforting hand on Azerick’s shuddering body. “You must go on. I know this is difficult, more so than I can even imagine, but you must persevere.”

“I can’t,” Azerick sobbed as his tears soaked the floor and great strands of drool trickled from his mouth. “It hurts too much. I cannot go on. I can’t!”

“You can, and you will. You will see that once you are able to process this terrible memory. I looked into your mind after I brought you here, and I believe this to be the most traumatic memory you possess, as well as the most important. Return to your bed and rest. I will give you as much time as I can for you to recover.”

“I have my magic back, isn’t that enough?” he begged.

“No, I am afraid it is not. Your sorcery is only half of what you are. You must rediscover yourself in your entirety for there to be any hope.”

Azerick felt himself float above the floor and gently lowered back onto his bed. He curled into a ball and held his knees as he laid weeping until his body ached and exhaustion finally pulled him into a troubled sleep. That night, his dreams were a series of nightmares as he watched Delinda die repeatedly in a macabre montage painted with the brush of his anguished soul. Every death he had ever been a part of or witnessed, Delinda was there, taking the place of every victim.

It took days for Azerick to summon the strength to eat, and over a week before Lissandra pushed him to continue his treatment.

“We need to continue. I am running out of time.”

Azerick hugged his arms around his chest and shook his head. “I’m sorry; I just don’t think I can. I want to, but I just can’t.”

Lissandra extended her hand to him. “Come, it is time you saw the face of our enemy.”

Azerick let the Guardian lead him from the room. She touched the wall of the main chamber and a section disappeared, revealing another chamber beyond. The room was empty except for a crystal sphere the size of his head cradled on a stone plinth.

Once inside, Lissandra gestured to the doorway and it vanished, plunging the room into total darkness. The crystal immediately began to glow and Azerick could see again. The light continued to expand but the walls were now gone.

The light revealed a great shimmering barrier stretching beyond sight both horizontally and vertically. Suddenly, Azerick could see beyond the wall and his knees nearly buckled. Spread out across a desolate plain milled hordes of fearsome creatures of every size and description. Everywhere creatures fought and died, but their numbers were so great even their constant battles could do nothing to reduce them. Floating high above the plain was a massive crystal fortress twice as tall as it’s width.

“By the gods, there must be…,” Azerick tried to count.

“Millions,” Lissandra finished. “There are millions just waiting for the inevitable fall of this barrier, and they know the time is drawing near.”

Before Azerick could form a response, an intense pressure began crushing his brain. Four ghostly, giant-sized figures appeared just beyond the shimmering wall. They were gaunt and covered in purple silk robes. Their heads were dull grey, hairless, and far too large for their emaciated bodies. No sign of a mouth broke the featureless plain of their face. The creatures’ eyes were like looking into the nighttime sky. The twin black caverns twinkled with starlight, luminous eddies swirled, and an occasional comet streaked through them.

Guardian, I see you have brought us a tribute. Have you finally decided to save yourself and free us?

The chorus of voices crushed Azerick to the ground under their awesome assault. The mentally invasive power of the psylings was but the gentle whisper of a loved one in comparison. Azerick cried out as he fell to the ground, feeling as though the boot of a titan was grinding him under heel.

Lissandra spoke a few words and gestured with her hand. Azerick gulped in air as the titanic pressure relented to a dull throb and an annoying buzz.

“No, Scions. I wished to show you the face of your ultimate destruction, and you to him. You know my time is nearing and so I hand off my duty to one more capable.”

Capable? He is certainly interesting, but hardly capable. We shall amuse ourselves with this strange creature before destroying him, his bloodline, and all those who trespass in the place of the true gods. Hear us, sorcerer, and live your final days in terror. We are coming, and we will destroy all who dared touch the power reserved for the gods and all who share their blood. Then we shall purge the world of all but a few of the most docile and tractable of your pathetic kind. The feeble creatures you worship as gods cannot help you. They cannot even help themselves. You are all insignificant to the true gods.

Azerick stood and faced the Scions’ wavering image. “Only those who have fear in their hearts waste words for threats. Were we so feeble, we would be beneath your notice and such wasted words unnecessary. Stay behind your wall and save yourselves. Come to my world, and we shall be ready to meet you with steel, magic, and courage.” Azerick turned to the Guardian. “Come, Lissandra, let us leave these posturing fools to their rightful desolation.”

Lissandra smiled and gestured. The room went black once more before filling with natural light when the doorway reappeared. Azerick sank down and shuddered, gasping for air.

“What were those things?”

“Those were the Scions. That is what you shall have to face. Now you see why it is so incredibly vital for you to regain all you once were.”

Azerick shook his head. “So much power, and that from behind a great barrier. How can I, any of us, hope to stand against it?”