The Seventh Spirit

by Adam-Clay Webb

  “Amazing! You didn’t plan all this just now, did you?!”

  “Knowing the future is pointless if one doesn’t prepare for it. Anyway, I’ll be taking Lex, the mindbender and my sorcerers to a guarded safe house to secure him while he tames the other half of the demon.”

  “You’re leaving with him?!” Clover asked, “And Zen’s going?!”

  “Relax, girl, it’s for the best. I’ll soon be back. I’ll be moderating and connecting several battlefronts simultaneously.” Azar stooped and hit the ground with his palms. “Mass teleportation!” he commanded. Suddenly, a red, translucent cube of mana appeared around him, Lex, Zen and the four sorcerers, along with the two halves of the vial and the scroll. The walls and everything within them disappeared in a red cloud. Star’s eyes widened, impressed with the prince’s magic.

  ***

  They all appeared in a cabin made of steel with a single door made of platinum. The cabin was an old safe house on the far south end of Magma Town in a mild basin. Surrounding the cabin were top notch Magmalian guards. The commander there was none other than USG Marco. The supreme general, Praise, was leading the main army. Azar appeared outside to the man. Four guards stood at the four corners of the little room inside.

  “My Lord and Prince,” the under-supreme general greeted.

  “Keep the boy alive until I return.” With that, Azar vanished again. Marco opened the door. Zen jerked a little, a bit startled.

  Marco’s eyes fixed themselves on Lex for a long moment. What an irony… This boy killed the queen, Azar’s mother and now he is ordering his best men to guard him. I lost so many men and so much of my honour battling to recapture him and now I am charged with guarding him with my very life… Hmm? The general looked down at the face of the sitting girl. This girl… if I’m not mistaken… I captured her a few years ago for the assassination of one of my men. Why the hell am I here guarding S-ranked criminals?! … At least her strange power will be of good use now. Zen sat against a wall looking at Lex. Marco exited the room and stood at the door. The strange black things were speeding down at them from above.

  ***

  Zakashi Village fell into pandemonium as streaks of dark energies, tiny fractions of Trium’s spirit, descended on the people. Hellish cries filled the village as one in every five villagers was struck by the spirits. As the spirits blasted down on the people, the earth cracked and shook, and craters formed. Shaman looked around with panic, seeing some of the villagers with black, menacing eyes. Some of the black-eyed villagers were armed with swords of darkness, and they rose to attack after being struck down with the human-killing force with which the spirits descended. Even many of the children fell victim to the mass possession. Blade spun wildly in the midst of the chaotic crowd of panic and noise. Azar’s sorcerers were with him. “What is our order, Commander Blade?” one of the magicians asked.

  “I don’t profess to have knowledge of sorcery, but see how best you can restrain them without killing them; remember they’re my people.”

  “Right,” they chorused.

  “Blade, what the hell is this?!” the panicking Shaman blasted, his eyes wide. “Guards! Bodyguards, where are you?!” Through the crowd of turmoil, one of his men approached him quickly with deathly-glowing eyes. He made a sudden and threatening swing at the man with his iron sword. Blade stepped in quickly and pushed Shaman out of the way, holding off the sword of the black-eyed bodyguard with his own.

  So… Strong… Blade’s eyes widened as he saw a shadowball formed in the man’s left hand.

  “Abingush!” Red mana enveloped the man and he was blown to bits by the witch on the squad.

  “Didn’t you hear my command?!” Blade blasted at the woman. Suddenly, a shadowball gripped in a bloody hand ripped through the woman’s chest from behind. Blade stared at the woman. He looked around at the village sinking in blood. He was in a state close enough to panic. This disaster was on a far larger scale than the one that had occurred near ten years before. Blade realized on quick calculation that in mere minutes, the village could be lacking even a single survivor.

  ***

  “What the hell?!” the USG blasted. He saw his men suddenly fighting one another. Another of the black streaks, which looked like a tiny black meteorite, except made of weighted shadow, blasted one of his men who tried to get away. The man’s body sunk into the ground, bleeding all over. He and the ground were wrecked by the heavy force of the spirit. Marco watched from a few meters off as the bleeding man rose from the crater, his eyes pure black, two orbs of thick darkness in his hands, a faint dark glow around his body. The shaking Marco gripped his sword tightly as one of possessed bolted toward him with great speed, the ghastly darkness glaring through eyes. Marco barely managed to block the swift, strong swing of the man’s sword. With unexpected swiftness and force, the man stepped toward Marco and blasted him with his left fist. Still clutching tight his weapon, Marco hurled backward wildly, making a rough landing and rolling for a few meters on the already bloody grass. He rose up quickly as he saw another soldier approach him from another direction.

  He heard an angry-sounding, monstrous roar from the direction of the first attacker. He dived out of the way as the man hurled a shadowball at him. Marco saw the shadowball easily tear through the flesh and bone of his second attacker, then blast a hillside meters off, creating a massive explosion of black energy, scattering rocks and dust. Private Romario Adams fell to the ground, a massive hole in his chest that could never be mended.

  Marco rushed up to one of his youngest men. “Adams!” he shouted, grabbing the soldier nervously. Marco froze up when he saw that the soldier’s eyes were still black.

  He noticed, in a flash, a black thing – the spirit that possessed the now dead man – rush from the man’s eyes up to his. As it was about to enter Marco, the spirit split apart, going around both sides of his head. Marco looked back in confusion, watching the shadowy thing re-join its halves quickly and dash through a crevice of the door of the metal cabin. That’s right, he remembered. Marco looked up. More black rain was coming down, and it seemed endless from where he stood. The master swordsman flashed his attention back to the enemy before him as he uttered a demonic, deathly scream, forging quickly in his hands two shadowballs.

  ***

  All around the world, on every continent, on every island, in every country, the black rain was pouring perilously. Collectively, hundreds of people died each second, and already, significant reductions had been made to the world population. Notherland’s most bloody war had begun. For each sorcerer that there was, there were four or five civilians possessed with terrible power, wreaking havoc, destroying buildings and people without thought. Kaleb and the other high officials were seated around a table at a safe-house that was well hidden. Their tower had already been completely destroyed.

  “According to the reports,” Kaleb continued, “civilians are being possessed. Maybe these tiny fractions of Trium’s spirit aren’t strong enough to possess sorcerers. Still, our army is hideously outnumbered, and half of our swordsmen are fighting against us, so our military strength is dented terribly.” The seven most powerful sorcerers were guarding the safe-house. Also, with their minds, they were keeping track of the concentrations of darkness around the continent.

  “Mr. Prime Minister,” Hawthorne said, “please give us the order to enter the battlefield and start wiping these monsters out! We can’t be sitting at ease here while Trium is destroying everything!”

  “Still, we cannot be too hasty,” Kaleb said.

  “As we speak, hundreds of us are dying out there for each word that leaves our mouths!” Hawthorne continued. Kaleb hissed. He knew just how dire the situation was outside.

  “Spread yourselves out throughout the country – go where the highest concentrations of dark energy are… I’m leaving it up to you, the deadliest team of magicians, to find a way to defeat Trium without annihilating the citizens.” With that, there was a cloud of purple mana, and the council of
mages known for having never lost a battle was off to join the war to save Notherland, the war to save earth.

  ***

  Lex skated back forcefully, a black smoke rising from a large dent in his chilly chest. He just noticed that he wasn’t breathing. The enemy was directly between Lex and Maximo.

  Maximo glared at his other half. “We have him enclosed and overpowered, so why the hell do I feel like we’re losing?” the spirit asked himself in annoyance. A black cloak formed itself around the man in the middle, looking a bit different from the darkness that he was made of – the cloak seemed fluid. Shadowy, snake-like streaks fired off at Maximo and Lex in their tens. Maximo and Lex began the evasion game. The streaks blasted through and cracked up the white floor; the two skilfully avoided them.

  “Dammit!” Lex cried out as a few of the streaks that he thought he had dodged tightly wrapped themselves around him like thick ropes made for bounding dragons. Though not in the form of flesh and blood, Lex felt a dreadful pain as two of the streaks bolted through his icy chest, sending cracks through his entire body. The streaks anchored themselves deep into the floor behind him. Maximo glance over at Lex, then looked back over at the enemy. At will, massive black wings shot out of Maximo’s back. He jumped off in flight toward the other man of darkness, skilfully dodging the snake-like attacks. As he reached close enough, he circled the enemy in flight and struck him powerfully. Seeing the enemy fast approaching, Lex opened his arms and sturdily caught him, releasing a mass of ice energy. In a second, a massive boulder of ice was before Maximo, as Lex had sent ice to cover both himself and the enemy.

  “Nice work, Lex—What?!” Maximo put up a shield of darkness quickly as the ice exploded suddenly. Bits of ice flew from the boulder in every direction as it was completely shattered in a tiny moment. Lex flew back with great force, falling and rolling several times, bits of his icy body breaking off, more painful cracks running through him. Maximo darted off at the enemy again, two more wings appearing on his back. Maximo grabbed his other half, flying up with him swiftly. Lex looked up with wide eyes as both powerful entities blasted each other with incredible amounts of power. They shot off in opposite directions, wedging into the white floor. Lex struggled, rising to his feet. Maximo stood from the ravaged floor, keeping his eyes on the rising enemy. “Damn it. If I use all my energy fighting this thing, I’ll need time I don’t have to regenerate in order to fight my brothers. He looked over at Lex. “At this rate, when Lex wakes, he will have neither ice nor dark energy. If he dies in here, he will completely lose his ability to make ice… This must be avoided at all costs.” Maximo materialized two more massive shadowballs in his hands. His equal quickly mirrored him.

  ***

  “What the hell’s happening?!” Crank, another teenage Icemaker, asked his friend, Artaco, who was still clinging to Icilda. “Why haven’t they attacked yet?”

  “Don’t sound so impatient!” Icilda snapped, “I have a feeling you’re looking forward to this war they’re talking about.”

  “Honestly, things’ve been pretty drab around here,” the boy said candidly, scratching his head, a look of boredom on his face.

  “Maybe Trium cannot possess Icemakers,” Artaco said. “Remember Trium is a spirit being, so he will take the body of humans to host his power. Probably Icemakers are immune to--”

  “Look! Get ready!” Asuri bellowed, pointing to the skies. The Icemakers looked up with gaped eyes and fright.

  “Angels?” Artaco wondered aloud, looking at the quickly approaching winged creatures.

  “Demons,” Icilda corrected. “It seems Trium has possessed peopled from the nearest villages to attack us. This would mean that your speculation was right. Artaco! Let go!” she blasted, shoving him off in annoyance. The black eyed, black winged people landed amongst the Icemakers on the soft snow. Shadowballs quickly appeared in their hands. The Icemakers too readied themselves, gathering ice energy in their hands.

  “Today you die, Icemakers!” the enemies said in a chorus, then launched their attack.

  ***

  The turmoil and chaos that Notherland was in was just beginning. The continent sunk deeper into blood and darkness as seconds elapsed.

  “They’re everywhere!” Hawthorne panicked, blood all over her, purple mana surrounding her and dense in her hands. “Abingush!” she blasted, blowing to bits a black-eyed woman who was coming at her with a shadowball. Mana surrounded her feet and she jetted off toward a crying, panicking girl who seemed to be lost in the mayhem. One of the still-pouring spirits was about to fall upon her forcefully. Hawthorne pushed the shivering, unmoving girl out of the way, but the spirit struck the powerful witch before spaceshifting could have been accomplished, wrecking the ground. The frightened councillor looked around wildly.

  Everywhere was white. She noticed that a shady figure, a man made of darkness, was in the distance before her. “This is my soul,” she awed to herself in realization. She readied her mana as the thing rushed forward to her and threw two black spheres. “Esrever!” the witch commanded, and the shadowballs, now encased in purple magic, rushed back to the shadowy man. The man took two skilful sidesteps, dodging the returning spheres and rushing still toward Hawthorne. Hawthorne hurled an orb of purple mana at the foe, making a powerful command as it neared the dodging target. “Edanerg Elit!” She slammed her eyes shut as amazing light scattered from the purple ball. Finally, the woman opened her eyes. Before her was a shaking man holding a sword at her throat. The woman moved the man’s blade and pushed him out of her way, blasting to bits another possessed enemy.

  “Abingush!” She glanced back to where the little girl was. She gasped and shook in horror. The girl, no more than eight, had a huge hole in her belly, caused, no doubt, by a shadowball. “Dammit…” She spaceshifted out of the path of an incoming shadowball quickly, and it proceeded to kill quite a few persons, both friends and enemies. The only way to kill the spirits without harming the hosts is through light magic… That type of sorcery is quite expensive on the mana, and if I use it constantly I’ll be useless in minutes… Still, it’s what I’ll have to do.

  ***

  Winged creatures flew with great speed to where Kyle, Clover and Star were.

  “They’re here!” Kyle alarmed, gripping onto his sword nervously. The three stood with their backs touching as they were quickly surrounded by scores of the enemies of darkness. “So many for the three of us?!” Kyle fretted, seeing even many more of the enemies landing amongst the trees in the distance around them.

  ***

  Marco blasted the heavy metal door open. The four guards inside and Zen looked up at the USG quickly. He was all bloody, and looked like he was about to keel over. “Little girl, I need your help!” With that, Zen left the room. She shivered upon seeing what seemed like a million bodies were scattered about the red grass. “Only a handful of my men are still alive! Kill those with the black eyes!” The enemies vastly outnumbered the few who guarded the boy in the cabin. The under-supreme general looked up with clenched teeth as more of Trium’s hosts flew down to the battleground. Their wings turned to mist as they landed. “If so many are coming here,” Marco figured, “then the other battle fronts must have lost all their soldiers. Dammit… This is unforgivable!”

  With deathly cries, the black-eyed enemies rushed at the few who remained. With no delay, Zen began her attack, slicing in two and quickly getting rid of three of the monsters with sharp mental energy.

  Marco, with no time to show his gratitude or pay a compliment, rushed toward a possessed woman. He ducked quickly, dodging the quick swing of a sword of darkness, then jumped back quickly as she spun and kicked at him with speed and skill that didn’t belong to her. The woman stretched her hands out toward Marco. The sword disappeared. He jumped and dodged in fright and desperation as long, sharp streaks of darkness sprang from her arms toward the swordsman. As he skilfully evaded the streaks, they blasted into the ground, cracking it up. I can’t get near! He had to be constantly movin
g away with his dodging. Through the corner of his left eye the under-supreme general spotted a fast-moving black ball approaching him. With a desperate cry, he spun quickly and struck at it with his sword.

  There was a frightening explosion and dark matter scattered fast as Marco, barely conscious, flew back helplessly. He landed on his back, skating a little distance. He nearly fainted as he stared down at his sword. It was severely distorted and rendered useless by the sphere it had hit. A black mist rose from it. This is a class A sword, yet it can’t survive one hit from those things! The man quickly flicked himself up, flipping in the air and landing on his feet stylishly in dodging another black streak from some other enemy.

  He watched an invisible force slice through several more of the enemies. Darkness escaped their eyes and sped into the vial close by. I can’t believe how useless I am against these things. He looked around at the corpses, and the almost equal number of enemies, many of them being men he used to command.

  MOUNT HEAVEN

  The two men of old, hailed as the gods of history, were based in a massive shrine that was built by Kizer only moments before. The superhuman magician sat in a meditative position, his eyes closed. His long white hair glowed slightly as his mind was processing and aptly using an immense amount of mana every tiny moment. Kizer sat around a table, his eyes combing a massive, elaborate and heavily detailed map of the world, which he had drawn just after building the shrine in less time than the average architect could manage to draw the borders and write up a heading. Scattered all about the map were small objects looking to be game pieces – most of them black, and they were of varying shapes and sizes. There were hundreds of pieces in total, and each of them accurately represented a set portion of power. On the table, lying around the map, bordering it, were crystal balls that Oga had made, tens of them. Kizer ran his eyes on each of the orbs, analysing the activities they displayed. He paid special attention to one of the orbs in particular. He saw moving shapes and images, that to him, depicted reality perfectly, while would look like abstract blurs to any other. He saw black-eyed monsters attack and destroy Icemakers on snowy ground.