The Seventh Spirit

by Adam-Clay Webb

  “S—Sorry, Madam Principal,” her lowly voice stuttered back, and she opened the door. She looked at the almost crazy-looking woman before her. She was buried in ancient books and scrolls that were scattered about the desk and floor. She continued to blast her fingernails almost involuntarily on her newly scratched-up mahogany desk. Her hair was all messy, like that of a mad woman or a very excited housewife after two or three rounds. Of housework.

  “Kuriu Sadasaki.”

  The girl seemed surprised that the principal knew her name. After all, she was in charge of quite a mass of students.

  “May I come in Ma--”

  “Shut the damn door behind you and don’t waste my time, little girl,” the woman snapped. The girl nervously entered the room and shut the door on her way in, almost slamming it in misjudgement. “What is it you want?”

  Kuriu stared at the many books and scrolls of ancient literature in amazement, almost getting excited.

  “Girl!” Hawthorne blasted in a deadly tone.

  “Sorry, Ma’am.” The girl quickly took the seat opposite the grumpy old woman. Suddenly, the woman’s expression of annoyance evolved into one of grave revulsion.

  “Who the hell told you to sit down, young lady?!” The shaking girl stood faster than she had sat. “You best sit back down before I break your neck, child!” Kuriu sat again quickly, wondering for a moment if stress was making her principal go senile.

  Hawthorne sighed heavily, and a slightly less angry expression untensed her face a little. “What is it?”

  “I know you are one of the great mages, one of the great elders of the Ogal Council, and I know you have immense knowledge concerning the return of Trium,” the girl began with a shaking voice. A look of interest came upon Hawthorne’s face.

  “What of it? Get to the point, girl!” She hastened Kuriu.

  The girl cleared her throat nervously. “I—I’ve been studying the prophecies as well, Ma’am,” she told the principal, “since my first year of school seven years ago.”

  “Have you, now?” Hawthorne was certainly interested in this child.

  “Yes, ma’am. I am sure you have read the ancient writings regarding the seventh portion of the amalgam Trium used to be a part of, The Seven. The prophecy of the Icema--” A look of offense and disgust suddenly wrinkled even further the woman’s face. This expression confused the young witch, who was already a wielder of fourth grade mana.

  “Garbage!” the woman attacked the frightened girl. “A bright student like yourself should know that only a sorcerer could host such a vast power! Ages ago, the few worthless Icemakers that remained tampered with the ancient, sacred writings, fabricating a ridiculous story that in our time, close to Trium’s return, one of their own kind would find this perfectly hidden power-- both halves at that, and use it to fight Trium. They made this up during a time of war between us and them just after the Ionide War. Knowing that we cared much about the prophetic writings passed down by the deity Oga himself, who wielded power even beyond black magic, they put together such an insolent tale, hoping we would believe it and spare them! How in the world could they – and at such a bloody convenient time too – have discovered new writings passed down from the generations of Oga that no magician had ever seen and confirmed? Are you a fool, young lady?! I might as well expel you for coming to me with such impertinent nonsense!”

  The young witch could barely speak. “The child of prophecy is the sorcerer who will wield black magic and use it to slay Trium. And we, the seven great elders, the Ogal Council, will fight alongside that sorcerer and all the magicians in Notherland will enter the war to save the world. Sorcerers are who will slay Trium, not an Icemaker!”

  Kuriu swallowed her fear and stood from the chair with a new countenance. “I’m pretty sure the reason you’re so upset about this is that you are feeling an amount of guilt that you cannot handle!... Madam Principal…” the student said to the frightened woman.

  Hawthorne took a stand also, slamming her fist on the table, sending small cracks through it.

  “That’s right, Hawthorne! You know within yourself that the Icemakers were right all along, and our ancestors erred greatly in destroying them!” The girl’s heart pounded out of her chest. “But you’re wrong! The Icemaker is here! Trust in the prophecies that were sent down from Lord Oga. There was no fabrication! We must head to Iceland quickly and find this child of prophecy and stand by his side! He is who will lead the attack against Trium!”

  “Did this girl just call me Hawthorne?” she asked herself aloud, finding it difficult to digest and sourly insulting. “You get out of my sight, child! And pack your things! You are expelled, and banned from this compound!”

  “I couldn’t care any less!” the youth blasted back at equal volume, “You and the other higher-ups better find this Icemaker and give that child the support he needs! Or you will be just as responsible for the world’s destruction as Trium himself! You think I care about being expelled knowing full well that this whole damn world might be obliterated because of the higher-ups’ pride and foolishness?! If this boy dies, it’s over! The descendants of Oga are not who are meant to fight Trium, it is the descendant of Kizer, the Icemaker.”

  “Get out!” the principal barked. With leaking eyes, the schoolgirl stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind her. She walked past the staring spectators, most of them teachers.

  Tears gathered in Hawthorne’s eyes. There was a serious look of contemplation on her face. “You better be wrong about this, you insolent child,” she said to herself with clenched fists, remembering the days when she used to beg the elders to accept that very same belief that Kuriu had just fired at her.

  ***

  “Damn, we’re not getting anywhere at this rate!” Lex complained, not feeling the spirit of patience. He could easily imagine even snails shooting past them on the damp walls.

  “Seeing the circumstance of darkness, it would be foolish to move any faster,” Blade said. Lex hissed in annoyance and discomfort and exhaustion.

  “I think it’s best we start running!” the boy suggested. Azar laughed out loud at the seemingly moronic idea.

  “Yeah? Then why don’t you come take the lead?” Blade dared him.

  “I’m serious! Remember the downward climb? We didn’t reach ground ‘til we made the risky move of jumping! Maybe these risks we have to take are all a part of this bizarre challenge to get to the portal.”

  “Hmmm… The kid might be right, Blade.” Blade sighed heavily, seeing at least a little logic in the idea. Their pace had begun to annoy him too, from their second or third step.

  “Very well…” At that, the swordsman stretched out his hands before him and took off at full speed. Azar and Lex followed in the darkness. “Please, no spiked wall, no cliff, no spikes, no cliff,” Blade whispered to himself. With suddenness, the darkness lifted. A saving light lit the place. They stopped. Lex laughed, realizing that his crazy idea was a golden one.

  Blade uttered a slight snicker. Azar sighed heavily, his heartbeat not even beginning to normalize. The now bright passage showed a corner just up ahead. “Let’s go,” Blade said, and they quickly made their way around the bend. A new scene greeted them. Before them was a square body of water. Somehow, though the place was bright, the water was dim. There was no telling the depth of it, or what was at its base.

  Over on the other side of the pool stood two men in shining robes, solemnness on their faces. “We are the guardians of the portal,” one of them introduced.

  Then the other spoke. “You three perfectly fit the description our associate gave us… What are your names?”

  “Lex.”

  “Azar.”

  “Blade.”

  “Very well,” the same man said. “Indeed, you have connections in high places… We were told you, Lex, are going to face Trium.”

  “That’s right… But I won’t be doing it alone,” Lex confirmed, glancing at each of his companions.

  “Well…
Do your best. You may enter.”

  “Enter where?” Lex asked, looking down at the pool nervously, never having been the biggest fan of swimming.

  “Listen carefully,” the other man said. “This portal is even less straightforward than it seems.” Blade sighed heavily, certainly preferring death-matches to these absurdities. “This portal, at its beginning, passes through yet another realm which has nothing to do with you. You will hit another body of water and continue to the beginning of your journey.”

  “What?!” Lex blasted.

  “Another world…” Azar pondered.

  “The beginning?” Lex asked, already extremely tired, “Just how long will it take us to get back to our world?”

  “Providing you can survive what is up ahead, a week at best.”

  Lex sighed and hissed.

  “I wonder how the others are holding up,” Blade thought aloud.

  As one of the men knelt to take it up, the crew of three just noticed a little metal box sitting on the ground. The gatekeeper grabbed it up and threw it over the body of water. Azar caught it quickly, its weight frightening him.

  “In the chest are some belts, anklets and bracelets,” the man said. “Your friend prepared them for you. They will take your through the first part of the journey. When they come in contact with water, they take on extraordinary weight. They will help you get through the waters quickly.”

  *******

  A man from the beginning, believed to be dead, slowly and solemnly walked to the ancient tomb hidden from the world. He was in a heavenly place. Clouds were all about him.

  “Our time cometh,” he said, and rested his hand against the massive stone that was set to seal the tomb. The hard stone quickly turned to ashes, and the wind took them about the clouds.

  *******

  “Alright… Ready, ladies?” Blade asked, peering down into the indefinitely deep body of water.

  “Let’s do this,” Azar said, but seconds more passed and there was no jumping.

  “We go together,” Lex suggested, and put his right arm around Blade’s neck and his left around Azar’s. They all inhaled deeply. Together, they made a fateful leap of faith. They crashed into the water and sank fast. Lex slammed his eyes shut. Blade managed to look for a moment. All he saw below him was water and more water, like they were plunging down into a bottomless well.

  ICELAND

  SNOW VILLAGE

  The hidden relics of the once mighty race gathered; they were the secret and the legacy of the Snow Village. Asuri stood before his people on the mount that would be written about in history as the place where he stood upon to make his final address to his people.

  “It has become common knowledge that Trium’s return is near!” he began. “Our own seers have told me only yesterday that this spirit will fall upon the earth in not a matter of years, but a matter of days. Many are thinking the world will end…”

  “So we finally gonna come outta the shadows, Ice?” an Icemaker asked the daughter of the man speaking. The young girl wore a pale face of worry and dread, one that contrasted perfectly to the face of Artaco. “Hey… Ice… Icilda!” He tugged on her arm. “Don’t be so afraid. Your father is a great man. He will lead us well!”

  “The plan was to remain hidden until our numbers grew and our strength as an elemental race returned!” the man on the hill continued, “But we will have no honour if we do not defend our land when Trium attacks!” The people chatted and mumbled amongst one another.

  “What do you mean defend our land?” one of the men asked, “That’s what the army is for!” The chattering became louder.

  “Listen!” Their leader tried to restore order. “We do not know the form Trium will take or where he will strike first, but we do know one thing for sure – his intention is to destroy the whole world, and I don’t mean the sticks and stones and trees! He will not rest until everyone is destroyed… or of course… until he is destroyed! Hiding here will not do any good, and this is not just about honour. As soon as we receive word that he has touched the grounds of Iceland, our continent, we will rush to them in attack and show the power of the Icemakers!” The Icemakers, at least most of them, roared in pride and agreement.

  “Do you think we will survive, Artaco?” the girl asked, dreading greatly what was to come.

  “You think all our training was for nothing, Ice?!” the boy asked back, sounding fired up and ready to go to war with this dreadful, enigmatic force he knew next to nothing about.

  “But Sage Asuri!” the same man who had spoken out earlier said, interrupting the man’s well-rehearsed speech, “Do you not remember the true prophecies? It is a sorcerer that must challenge Trium and decide the fate of the world! Under you we have studied false prophecies that have been passed down by our forefathers, telling us that an Icemaker will find the legendary vials and absorb the power of Trium’s brother. But it is all nonsense! All a lie that our ancestors created to save our skins in some war long ago!” An uproar began among the people. “For decades we have sent out Icemakers, and they have all returned, none ever finding this power these false prophecies tell us of! Our forefathers were liars who deserve the beating they got in the war, and you, our leader, are a liar just as much, leading us astray!”

  “That’s enough!” the fierce-eyed man raged.

  “How dare you say such things about my father!” Icilda involved herself, approaching the man with fierce eyes and two spheres of pale-blue, chilly ice energy in her palms.

  “I said that’s enough!” the girl’s father shouted, and she stopped in her tracks, looking up at the man on the hill who had a look of reprimand and embarrassment on his face.

  “So that’s how it is?!” the same heckler continued, “Someone dares to disagree with your tyrannous foolishness and you and your ‘royal family’ have his head?!” Asuri glared down at the villager. The people were silent, listening for his response. He tried his best to remain calm, releasing a heavy sigh. He turned his eyes to his daughter.

  “Icilda, you will be punished for raising your hand against your own!” he declared. Artaco looked over at the now crying, shamed girl. “I continue my address! There may very well be other secret colonies of Icemakers out there, maybe some even larger than our own! Maybe, just maybe…some Icemaker out there has found the legendary and prophetic power, and will face Trium with it… Also, as our comrade suggested…” he held his head down, wondering if he should utter such words which he do not believe, “that portion of the prophecy might have been flawed, might have been tampered with by our fore parents…” The villagers began chatting again. “Nevertheless! We will not hide away while our country, while our world is at war!”

  ***

  The nearly dead men gasped thirstily for air as they burst through the body of water. They were still falling. There was water as far as their eyes could see. They held their breaths again as they plunged into the vast ocean of some other world. The gears they wore would give them no chance to swim back up to the surface. They dived down into the ocean. In five seconds, they had covered more distance than they would have imagined possible. Then, with a splash, they fell from out of the body of water, which was obviously not sitting on ground. The three men uttered manly screams as they realized they were in a sky, falling through clouds. Soon, the water was pulled off of the bands by the force of their fall, and they began to fall at normal force, which was still certainly enough to kill them had they crashed onto the ground. They could see clearly what was below – bare, hard, rocky ground, no water, no trees. They clung to each other as they descended quickly.

  “Azar! Use your magic! Teleport!” Blade shouted.

  “I’m tryin’!!”

  “Dammit, we’re gonna die!” Lex screamed as they were only a few meters from the ground.

  SPLOOF!!

  The ground cracked and dust rose in the red cloud as the force of three young men blasted it from nearly a mile’s height. The three stood and looked at where they were sure they had lan
ded. Red mana cleared away from around them. They panted heavily with rapid heartbeats.

  “Goddamn it… I did it… The timing was so damn close that our force still acted on the ground…”

  Lex was shaking, clutching to Azar tightly. “Alright, you can let go now!” the prince said, pushing him off, laughing a little. Lex fell to his knees, still gasping for breath. “What the hell?” Azar muttered, his eyes dilating. Blade grabbed the unaware Lex and pulled him to his feet. He too began staring with a similar expression. The three stood together, their backs almost touching. They turned slowly, looking around them. They watched as the ground mounted up at several points and morphed itself into strange-looking creatures. They were about twice the size of men and were far stronger, and had the same dark-brown colour as the ground. Some had two arms, some four and some six. They had rock-hard skin, and spikes jutting out from all over them. Their heads seemed to be made of bone-like material, which was grey. Instead of eyes it seemed, they had two holes in their hard, skull-looking heads. Their mouths were also just spaces, which had many shapes and sizes. They were altogether ghastly. Soon, standing around the three were tens of these things. Turning faster, the three counted in their minds the number of unfriendly-looking creatures.

  Lex, in a silent strain, tried to summon up some ice energy. He closed his eyes, trying to find some dark power within, but he came up empty. “Maximo…” He opened his eyes to a familiar place. His eyes widened in shock and confusion as he saw the creature of darkness curled up in a corner, shivering like a scared, cold girl. “Max!” the boy called out, running over to his friend. He stopped moving when he got a much closer view off him. The spirit was burnt up, scorched all over, dilapidated, feeble-looking. A pale yellow mist rose from him. Lex slowly stretched out his shaking man toward the spirit.

  “No….” the shivering man snapped, sounding out of breath.