The Seventh Spirit

by Adam-Clay Webb

  With that, they slowly faded out of the dreamy world, and the solid reality was there again. Lex found himself seated in the chair, sitting at the table in the dark room, the woman grasping his hands tightly.

  “We’ve got to go in there!” Clover insisted.

  “Relax, girl. Lex will tell us all we need to know in time,” Blade said, resting easy on the gently rocking chair, his eyes closed. Somehow, Clover felt obliged to obey him, maybe as he was about twice her age.

  “Wow… So in thirteen days… I am going to die?”

  “According to this dream, yes, but you will be given life by the spirit inside you.” Lex was still looking quite puzzled. The oracle sighed, seeing his incomprehension. “Maximo, like his brothers, are dark spirits, and like all spirits, has life energy. Well, they are alive, aren’t they? Usually, when they possess other beings, the life energy of the possessed is merged with their own. When they leave the being, they take with them all of the life energy, leaving the host dead. The case with you, though, is a little different. You only have a portion of this spirit within you. Therefore, you are in control, at least for the most part. If and when you absorb the other half, the entire spirit will be inside you, and chances are, he will be in control, at least when he wants to be. Back to your dream! When you will have died in thirteen days, Maximo will not leave you for another body, but he will give you his own life energy. Therefore, he will be sealed inside you, giving you total control.”

  “But why would Maximo give me his life?”

  “That puzzles me too… Know this, though. When you have his life energy, he will be the source of your existence. If he is weak, you are weak. You will share his thoughts and emotions, and if he leaves your body, you will surely die.”

  “Wow… All this… it’s unbelievable…”

  “You will have full control of the demon’s powers… You will need that advantage to stand a chance against Trium.”

  “Full control…”

  “In any case, boy, you need to get the other half from the prince, or none of this may be possible.”

  “So can’t this half of Maximo that I have give me the life energy?”

  “You will need the other half to be certain… It baffles me, though… why a demon older even than our world, a demon of the purest darkness, would give up its life for you… You really are one special child. Heheheh!”

  She yawned again. “Well, that’s my cue. I will retire to bed, now,” the oracle said, rising from the table. Lex rose along with her.

  “How do I thank you, ma’am?” Lex sounded genuinely indebted to the woman.

  She laughed, as had become usual. “Defeat Trium when he comes. I have a lot of life left to live, and many more dreams to interpret. Heheh! Through the door now! It’s mighty cold out there, so you can spend the night.”

  “Many thanks, good oracle.” Lex left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He looked over at his company. Everyone was fast asleep; Clover in her brother’s lap, Kyle on Blade’s shoulder, Blade and Mike comfortably resting their backs and heads on the back of the still slowly rocking chair, their feet stretched out on the table of important literature. Lex Leo found himself in the dark room a little cushioned chair, and threw himself in it, and thought himself to sleep.

  Chapter 17: The Armoured People

  Mike awoke at an early hour in the morning, even before Blade. He glanced about, then slowly and carefully rose from the chair, not wanting to induce a swaying that would wake everyone. He stretched and yawned mutely, still scanning the place. It looked much less eerie in the light of day. Oh damn… He just noticed the great mess they had made. “Ionide…” he mumbled to himself in recollection. “Hmm… Wonder if I could find something in all this clutter.” In a rush, Mike ransacked the scrolls and books, searching and searching. He dug for minutes, until finally he released a sigh of frustration, throwing down the last piece of literature on the table. He sat back on the chair in his spot, not as carefully as he arose.

  Upon raising his head, he drew back himself in a defensive ball, startled. Staring at him was an evil-looking witch with bright, frightening eyes. “What answers are your searching for?” she asked, not sounding as upset as she appeared. There was a welcoming hint of concern and curiosity in her voice instead. Mike stood slowly and held his right fist out toward the witch. She took a slight step back. He clenched his fist tightly, and in little time, a solid silver coat came over it.

  “Answers to this,” he said. The oracle stared down at the coated fist, then looked back up at the boy musingly, obviously very interested.

  “You are of a rare and forgotten kind… Come with me.” She led him into her room. By the time he reached in, she was already sitting at her end of the table. She signalled to him to close the door. Mike did as told and quickly took his seat before the woman. She gestured to him to give her his hands. Assuming it was in order, he closed his eyes. For a short moment, she squeezed his hands, then she held them gently.

  Mike opened his eyes and stared at her.

  “What now?” he asked impatiently.

  “If I show you what you want to see, it will alter your future,” she warned. “It will be more complicated, and filled with battle and strife.”

  “It’s all gain then,” Mike said confidently.

  The witch nodded. “Alright. Close your eyes, and journey with me to a mere fragment of my omniscience.”

  Suddenly, Mike found himself in an entirely different place. He looked around wildly and in confusion and bewilderment. The oracle was right beside him. She snickered at his expression.

  “Where is this place?”

  “There was a very special people,” she began, “a race that descended from the lineage of Kizer, from his son named Argros… a nation that was called indestructible.” As she spoke, an entire civilization of people appeared. A nation of hundreds or thousands filling up many cities spread out across hills and valleys and plains with a mere thought, becoming as vast as their eyes could see. “These people lived… quite like normal people, but they certainly were not.”

  The earth rumbled under their feet.

  “What’s happening?” Mike asked, crouching a bit.

  “Look over yonder,” the oracle said, pointing over to some distant hills. Mike’s eyes widened. He saw, quickly and menacingly advancing, a massive army, tearing down acres of land, coming toward the nation. “These people, called the Ionide race, could armour themselves with a metal unique to them, which was commonly mistaken to be iron, or an evolved form of it. The strongest Ionides could even transform themselves into deadly beasts with impeccable armour!” The oracle spoke with great pride, like it was her who belonged to such a race.

  “Amazing!” Mike’s eyes lit up as he watched the past of his great race.

  As the woman spoke, the Ionides, upon seeing the approaching army, readied themselves for battle. With clenched fists and serious faces, men, women and children summoned their silvery armour.

  “Incredible!” Mike mused. He watched powerful men and women transform themselves into what appeared to be iron lions and wolves, and even unfamiliar-looking beasts.

  “Some of the Ionides called ‘Soloids’ used sunlight to power flight,” the witch taught.

  Mike saw a few of the Ionides, already fully coated with armour, grow beautiful, slender, silver wings and take off into the air. The sunlight bounced off their wings, seemingly brightly enough to blind their enemies.

  “The Ionides were not only well armoured, they were very strong, fast and nimble. Born fighters. Born warriors.”

  With great speeds, the Ionides ran and flew towards the approaching army, meeting them before they could reach the inner cities. Their enemy was a massive army of well-armed, well armoured swordsmen and archers. Swords clashed against the armour of the Ionides, but no sword was strong enough to leave a single scratch on even the weakest of them.

  “No weapon could prevail against this mighty race,” the oracle continued to narra
te.

  Mike watched swords bend and break by the hands of the Ionides. He saw the Ionides slay their enemies with great ease. Though they were outnumbered, numbers meant very little to the Ionides.

  “It seemed there was no limit, no end to their might. Spikes of the unbreakable metal could be fired from their bodies at deadlier speeds than the swiftest of arrows. They moved over miles, and tore through stone and steel!” Mike watched as the Ionides sent what seemed like giant needles at their enemies, tearing though flesh and armour alike. “This race is crowned the most powerful nation to have ever existed. They were superior even to sorcerers, and they never backed down. Never surrendered.”

  The oracle pointed over to some hills opposite the army of dying swordsmen and archers. Another great multitude of warriors was moving in, an army even greater than the first. As Mike looked around, he saw what appeared to be an infinite number of powerful warriors closing in on the grossly outnumbered Ionides. Rushing horses came down on them from every angle. Mike noticed, by the mana they wielded, that most of the enemies that were approaching were magicians. Some held staffs and wands, and others just fought with their raw mana. Some were on horses, and some on giant lions, and other ferocious beasts that had long since become extinct.

  “What is that?!” Mike shrieked, pointing up at some large flying creature that was ahead of one of the armies on the eastern side.

  “A Pegasus,” the oracle said, “a magical creature only powerful sorcerers can see, let alone control.” An old, grey-bearded man was upon it, wielding a long staff with what seemed like a purple gem at the end of it.

  “Riding that Pegasus is Sage Lukia, one of the few in history to attain seventh grade magic.” The Pegasus and its master were enclosed by a black, transparent sphere that no ordinary attack could penetrate. “This man led the second greatest war in history,” the oracle said, looking up at him, gazing up like she was looking at a god. “Only the war between Trium and the gods is comparable to the great Ionide War.” Mike watched in pure awe.

  “All this happened well over twenty-thousand years ago,” the oracle continued, “this is not yesterday. Back then, the rulers of the world were magicians. Of all the powerful races that existed from Kizer’s lineage, the most powerful back then, apart from the Ionides, was the Ice race. The Icemakers were more powerful than the Firemakers, the Earthshifters, the Windwakers, all the rest. By the way, it is largely believed that the Windwakers did not exist, as the Wind Sage had died in the war against Trium. Other writings tell that because of wars amongst the other elemental races, they had become weak and few, and eventually extinct. In any event, the Ice race kept themselves to themselves, and they ended up surpassing their sister races. The Ice race back then had close ties with the strongest alliance of sorcerers that existed, the Ogal council.”

  “Those who descended directly from the children of Oga.”

  “That’s right. So together, the magicians and the Icemakers were a force no nation would want to pick a fight with. The sorcerers and Icemakers raged in on the Ionides.”

  “But why?! What did they do wrong?”

  “They were too powerful.”

  The action seemed to resume suddenly. Mike watched as enclosing armies, which were, combined, a hundred times bigger than the Ionide race, made war with them. The scene was nothing short of chaotic. An epic chaos. There was mana, ice, ‘iron’, and more than all, blood, everywhere.

  “The Ionides believed that nothing was more disgraceful than surrendering; they were a people of great pride and honour. They preferred to fight and die.” Mike and his narrator were in the midst of the war, but like they were ghosts, everything and everyone went straight through them. “The Ionides were great… but this number of Icemakers and sorcerers… only the fathers of the races, the great gods of old, the creators of power, could stand a chance at defeating them. The sorcerers developed anti-ionic spells, techniques made specifically to destroy Ionides.” Loud, violent spells pierced through the Ionides’ armour. Great creatures were summoned to fight on the side of the magicians and Icemakers. Hail and snow and ice were everywhere. Ionides were frozen and then destroyed by ancient spells that the greatest of magicians of Mike’s era would struggle to use. The Ionides perished at a fast rate, but as they went down, each took with them around ten enemies, sending the strong, resilient metal through them fiercely.

  “Many say that the Ionide War is the bloodiest war in the history of mankind…”

  Mike watched with solemn eyes as his innocent people perished by the hands of the sorcerers and Icemakers. He felt a painful connection to them, almost like he knew each Ionide he saw.

  “One Ionide especially stood incredibly strong, ripping through enemies by the second, one called Amorphous.”

  Mike watched as one of the Ionides, a man in his prime, sent tens of spikes from himself each second, tearing fearlessly through his enemies, bursting out of prisons of ice, withstanding powerful spells. He seemed to be much stronger than the other Ionides. His eyes had a strange, silvery glow.

  “Every century or so, one Ionide would unlock a rare level of Ionic power, the Epic State of Ionicity, which was named the Legend State. In this state, an Ionide’s body would not be coated with this strange metal, but would become it. The metal would grow even stronger, and nothing could destroy it.”

  “Ion Blast!!” Mike heard this raging warrior shout, running at an incredibly high speed. He jumped up, levelling himself with Lukia, who was on his Pegasus, slaying Ionides with Ogal spells. The Ionide drew his fist back, which Mike was sure was glowing, and blasted Lukia with it, ripping through his protective shield of black mana. As the legendary Ionide’s fist connected with the wizard, all motion ended.

  “Before that day,” the witch said, “it was said that Lukia had made himself invincible with an ancient, forbidden spell. He was said to have survived stabs to the heart. This momentous day proved popular belief wrong, however. He was no more invincible than the other sorcerers who the Ionides killed.”

  As she stopped speaking, the motion was resumed. There was a sound like thunder when Amorphous struck the wizard. He zoomed through the air in a cloud of black mana that struggled to heal him. Mike awed speechlessly as he watched what happened. The wizard crashed into a mountain miles away. The force of the legendary attack was enough to send him sinking miles deep into the base of the mount.

  “The mountain was named Mount Lukia,” the oracle said. “He was never found.”

  “That’s impossible!” Mike belted.

  “That man, young lad, is your forefather. The strength to send your enemies miles deep into the base of a mountain is buried deep in your blood.”

  Mike watched as the Icemakers and sorcerers destroyed every last Ionide. He shook with many emotions, with wide, wild-looking eyes. My people…

  Then, in a flash, the imaginative world of history disappeared. Still, the images Mike saw were stuck in his mind, the blood of his ancestors, the injustice of their demise, the death, the murder of his people. He opened his eyes, staring at the woman before him. With abruptness, he rose from the table and took a step back. “No… It’s all a lie! … I don’t believe any of this!”

  “But you do,” the oracle disagreed. The boy looked down, trying to process all he had just seen. The oracle saw a million new questions enter his mind. His face wrinkled.

  “Am I… the only one left? How am I here? Why am I here? Didn’t the Ionides die out in that war twenty millennia ago?”

  “You need not my answers, young one. Before long, you will receive first-hand answers to your questions.”

  “What?! Tell me, woman! Who am I?!” Mike yelled, folding his fists tightly. As he felt a change of weight on both hands, he looked down in fright. Both his hands were covered in the legendary armour.

  “You have much to learn, young one, but fret not, you have much time to learn it in.”

  Mike stared down at the armour without words.

  An obnoxious knocking on th
e door interrupted them.

  “Everything alright in there?” Blade asked from outside.

  “Well, your friends are awake,” the oracle said, “you should leave now.”

  “I’ll soon be out!” Mike shouted, looking back up at the woman.”

  “Go on. I’ll see you all off,” the woman said, sounding a bit like they had overstayed their welcome. Mike opened the door and went to where the others were.

  “What was all that about?” Clover asked in a whisper.

  Everyone was awake. Before Mike could say anything, the oracle closed the door behind her. She stared at the frightened-looking Clover.

  “All of you…” she looked at each of them, “you will be in legends and history books,” she told them. Kyle started listening. “You, little girl, granddaughter of Charles Bengushi, will be the greatest witch of your time. You, grandson of Charles, and your master, and his master, and master’s master, will fight in the most important war of this era, and will be in the greatest selection of men to wield the sword.” Kyle and Blade glanced at each other. “You, Ionide, your future is so great and full of power. You will live to see ages to come. Your life will go forth even into other worlds.” The listeners just looked at her in awe and wonder, their readings sounding too gloriously outlandish and peculiar to be true. “And you, Lex Leo… you and I both know how special you are.”

  “One more thing, oracle!”

  “Yes?”