Plus Ultimate

by Simon Archer

  Nadeine’s eyes widened as she realized where we were. “Neither did I, Leo. This is where we found him.”

  “Him?” Godfried asked, his eyes darting around the room. “Do you mean Viktor?”

  “Yes, cousin,” Marinka said. “This is where we found him on our last quest.”

  That seemed to spook the kid a little. “Ought we to be here?” he asked, turning around on his heels so he could see the whole room.

  “Why not?” Bernsten chuckled and shook his head. “He is long gone. There is no reason we should fear him.” He clapped a hand on Godfried’s shoulder. “Lighten up. It will be a long journey. What we ought not to do is fear a mere ghost.”

  “Of course, you are correct.” Godfried shook his head to clear it. “It is just I was not on that quest. It surprises me to be where he was, where he spent so much time after taking so much from our people.”

  “Of course,” Marinka said. “It was very different when he lived here, as Leo said.”

  “Yeah, it was,” I reminisced. “It was a lot dirtier, for one thing. Granier. And it smelled kind of funky, like he never left.”

  “He probably didn’t,” Freyja said, shaking her head at the memory.

  “Probably not,” I agreed. The fortress smelled nice now, like fresh pine. “And it’s cleaner now. There’s no old food sitting around, and those creepy orbs are gone.”

  Nadeine smiled at me gratefully. “Indeed. We have you to thank for that, Leo.”

  I nodded at the memory. After Viktor had been killed by some unseen force, presumably a spell cast by our mountain elf enemy, I had destroyed the orbs and undid the spell he had cast to take away the kingdom elves’ magic. That’s when I had become an ultimate mage, and my companions had gained their own magical powers.

  “Is that so?” Godfried asked, looking around at the room as if expecting the orbs to reappear so he could get a chance to see them. “Would you be able to do so again?”

  “That’s the plan.” I took a deep breath and nodded. “Find him, find his orbs, and destroy them to undo whatever he’s doing to the forest. We’ll need to find them all, though. Otherwise, it won’t work.”

  “And through that, it is my great hope that we will be able to undo the damage that our enemy has done to the forest,” Marinka added with conviction. “And that we will be able to do so before he gains the opportunity to complete whatever is next in his great plan to destroy our peoples and us.”

  “What do you think that is?” I asked. “I’ve been thinking about it and can’t figure it out.”

  “Nor can I,” Marinka said, shaking her head. “I am concerned about it, of course, but I do not believe we can know what he is planning until we find him. I hope I am wrong, and we discover more information soon.”

  “He must be using the forest’s energy for something,” I said, furrowing my brows together.

  “That is only if you are correct about the lights we have seen being the forest’s energy, my friend.” Bernsten reached into one of the food packs and pulled out some wrapped fillets, presumably more bear meat. “It may be something else entirely, though, of course, I trust your judgment.” He waved his hands to ensure I knew he meant no offense.

  “No worries,” I assured him, taking one of the fillets he was holding out to me and starting to unwrap it. “I’ve been operating under the assumption that I’m right, but I could be wrong. We know nothing about this guy or what he wants, really.”

  Nadeine took a fillet of her own. “Indeed, and this worries me. Why was he working with Viktor? How did they find each other? How is he even still alive? There are so many unanswered questions. Perhaps it is best not to even consider them, given the distress they cause.”

  “Oh, well.” I shrugged as I finished unwrapping the fillet. “Time will tell, I guess.” When I looked down at my dinner, my eyes widened in surprise. “This is fish. Bernsten, you pulled out the wrong dinner.”

  “No, my friend, I did not.” My friend flashed me a grin. “I did not wish to tell you all so that it would be a pleasant surprise, but we have made it through our supply of bear meat. It is back to our food from the kingdom now.”

  “Excellent.” I licked my chops and dug into the smoked fish. It tasted amazing, especially after weeks of bear. I swallowed down a mouthful of the delicious fillet and looked up at my companions. “You know, I was kind of getting sick of the fish before, even though it’s delicious, but after weeks of the bear, it might just be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  “The humorous thing is that the bear itself did not taste bad,” Bernsten mused as he chewed on his own fish. “It was actually quite rich. But eating it for so long was not good for any of our appetites, I am afraid. This meat from the kingdom is well-salted, however, and will last us for some time. We can vary it up as we wish.”

  “Nice,” I said. “That’s one thing to look forward to, I guess.”

  “One of many,” Bernsten said, finishing passing out water flasks and raising his own to us in a toast. “The foremost being your continued companionship, my friends. Whatever is to come, I am glad you all are here. There is no one else I would rather have by my side in the coming trials.”

  “Indeed,” Nadeine said, nodding.

  “I’ll drink to that,” I said, and we all raised our flasks to toast the sentiment, before digging into the remainder of our meal.

  After dinner, my companions set to work memorizing the spell to help darken the area and combat the painful effects of our enemy’s spell on our eyes. It struck me that we had been waging a battle with darkness since we’d entered the forest and that now we were faced with the opposite problem. While they worked, I maneuvered my way through the fortress and found a smaller room in which I could work on my custom spell to combat the blight that engulfed the forest.

  The room had amber wooden walls, just like the rest of the fortress, as well as a small window. I rushed to close the curtains like I had in the bigger room, and I was thankful that I had walked in while the light was no longer shining. The room was barren but for a set of bunk beds and a small bed table off to the side. I pulled some chalk out of my pack of scrolls, perfect for situations such as these, and drew a mage’s circle on the wooden floor. Then I pulled out the scroll with the spell I had written, looked over it briefly, and figured it was high past time I tried it out.

  I settled on one end of the circle, held out my arms, and waited for my cello to appear. When it came to me in a glittering shower of golden stardust, I gripped it tightly and sat down, setting my bow to my strings and breathing deeply a few times before I began. The tension and pressure had really built up over time for this one. Never had the stakes been so high for one of my custom spells.

  As I started to play, a glorious mass of golden light appeared in the mage’s circle in front of me. I focused intently on it, trying to make it do what I wanted it to do through will and melody. I thought of the forest, bright and teaming with light again. I imagined the clearing in the very center of the forest devoid of the mass of light that presumably led to the mountains and caused the light that was causing us so much distress now. The light pushed and pulled, forming into what felt like a million different shapes, but ultimately I ended up right back where I started: with nothing but a mass of golden light in the middle of a circle.

  I sighed, stretched out my arms and hands, and pressed my eyes closed. Maybe I was trying to do too much at once. I breathed deeply a few more times, pulled in my focus, and visualized just one thing now: the tree right outside my window covered in green leaves and healthy bark once again. With that image set in my mind, I set my bow back to my strings and began to play again.

  This time, the light settled on a form as it shot out several tendrils to the tree. The light moved through the cracks in the windows and presumably around the tree itself. I continued to play until the piece was complete, which was quite some time due to its length, and the entire time, I kept the beautiful image of the healthy tree locked in my mind.<
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  When I finished the spell, my cello disappeared in a stream of golden light, and I continued to stand in one place for a few moments, afraid to look outside. What if, despite my power and skill, I had failed? I reminded myself that I couldn’t expect much this soon, that I probably didn’t know enough yet about our enemy’s spell to counteract it. More than that, this was by far the most complicated spell I’d ever attempted to make and quite possibly, based on what I knew, the most complicated spell anyone had ever attempted. Even if it didn’t work this time, this was only the first working draft of the spellsong. I shouldn’t be too hard on myself if it didn’t work.

  But when I finally opened my eyes and pulled back the curtains next to the window, I was pleased to find that I had been wrong. While the tree wasn’t completely healthy as it should be, it had only a few scattered leaves where there should be many, and its bark was still a shade too dark, it was no doubt alive where a few moments before it had been completely dead. I jumped up and down and whooped in excitement, running as fast as I could back to the room where my companions were working on their own magic.

  “I did it!” I cheered as I rushed into the room. My excited cries startled my friends. The kingdom elves had been crouched on the floor studying the scroll together, while Ishida lingered by the window warily and Freyja sharpened her daggers. “I did it! I fixed it!”

  “Wait, what?!” Bernsten said as he jumped to his feet. “What happened, Leo Hayden?” He reached for his sword sitting over by the packs, not sure if he should be excited or vigilant.

  “No, nothing like that!” I waved my hands to stop him. “Sorry to freak you out, I’m fine.”

  Bernsten clutched his chest melodramatically. “Ah, Leo Hayden, do not scare me so.”

  “Sorry,” I said again. “I didn’t mean to. But my spell worked! Kind of, I mean. Come see!” I beckoned for them to follow me outside.

  “Should we risk it?” Godfried asked, glancing at the window warily.

  “It’s just for a minute,” I said, still excited. “Come on!” I turned to head outside without waiting for a response, but I wasn’t surprised to hear everyone moving to follow me. I rushed through the double doors and out to the little tree by the window of the room I had been working in moments before.

  I grinned when I saw it, still restored to life. It maybe even looked a little more healthy than when I first cast my spell.

  “You did this?” Freyja gasped, staring at the tree with wide eyes as she reached out to touch one of the budding leaves. She rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger, continuing to stare at it as if she expected it to disappear into thin air at any moment.

  I would have thought that a crazy thought, but I supposed that had actually happened to her not that long ago.

  “Yes,” I said, reaching out to run a hand over the tree’s bark myself. “My spell wasn’t working at first, so I decided to focus on one piece of the forest, and… viola! Now that I know it works in principle, I’ll keep refining and practicing the song until I can make it cover more ground. But it worked!”

  Freyja was speechless as she continued to stare at the tree with a dumbfounded smile. Ishida stumbled forward and ran her stubby otter-like fingers over a leaf herself.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Leo Hayden, the ultimate mage, for doing what you can to save our forest.”

  “No problem,” I said with a grin as I ran a hand through my hair. I was still a bit uncomfortable with all this praise, but I had to admit, it felt good.

  “This is excellent, Leo.” Marinka gave me a hug, her voice bright and excited. “To be truthful, we were unsure whether our magic would work at all to undo this horrible spell, but now, we know that it is possible, all thanks to your skills!”

  “Indeed,” Nadeine said, nodding. “Even if you cannot undo his spell directly, you can still revive the forest from its present state and cleanse the blight.”

  “And if our enemy is using the forest’s energy,” Bernsten added with surprising insight, “this may hinder that collection if we are reviving what he has killed.”

  “Well, it’s just one tree so far,” I said, gesturing at a portion of the trunk that was still recovering. “And even that is taking some time, but it’s a good start, I’ll give you that. I’ll just have to keep working on it from here, and then, when we return from the mountains, I can start restoring the forest to life.”

  “Well, perhaps we should stay here for a few more days then?” Godfried suggested, and he couldn’t keep the hopefulness out of his voice. He glanced over at the mountain looming over us nervously. “You could refine the song and perhaps heal much more of the woods. That might, as Bernsten suggested, weaken our enemy.”

  While Godfried’s suggestion made sense on a logical level to a degree, I could see that it wasn’t motivated by good sense, it was motivated by fear.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to, but I think it’s better to continue with our quest first. This new spell isn’t a sure thing. After all, it just fixes the symptoms without addressing the root cause. He could just cast his spell again, and then we’d be back at square one..”

  “Agreed,” Nadeine said, nodding curtly. “We need to find this enemy and stop this spell at the source. Then we may turn our efforts to using this new spell more widely.”

  “Very well,” Godfried relented as he cast one last glance over at the mountain, “but may we at least return inside first before that horrible, blinding light returns?”

  “No problem.” I chuckled, slapping an arm around his shoulders and another around Bernsten’s and turning to face the fortress’ doors. “I’m beat.”

  21

  I got a surprisingly good night’s sleep considering that I was camped out in the hallway. It was nice to be inside for once, plus there were actually beds we could use. Sure, we had to pull the several small beds out from various rooms throughout the fortress, but it was worth it to enjoy the luxury one last time before venturing into the mountains and facing God knows what when we got there.

  Well, we would find out soon enough.

  “We are to depart immediately?” Godfried asked nervously as we ate a hearty breakfast of preserved bacon and ham from the kingdom.

  “Indeed.” Bernsten chuckled and clapped him between the shoulder blades. “Lament not, my young friend, you are not alone in your apprehension. I feel it myself in the pit of my stomach.” He rubbed his abdomen uncomfortably to prove the point.

  “It doesn’t seem to have impacted your appetite, though.” I laughed as I eyed his full plate.

  Bernsten shrugged and waved away my comment. “Ah, well, you see, I eat when I am stressed, I eat when I am happy, I eat when I am hungry, and I eat when I am sad.” He chuckled merrily. “It is no matter and no reflection of my mental state, other than that I have one.” He tapped a finger to his temple and shot me a grin.

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” I joined him in his laughter. Frankly, I enjoyed the comic relief that Bernsten brought to our group. It would be quite the depressing breakfast before heading into the mountains if it was just those of us who struggled to find a sense of humor even in the most stressful of times.

  “Indeed, I would expect nothing less!” Bernsten said, his voice booming and echoing throughout the room. He took another large bite out of his ham, and I pushed mine around on my small wooden plate with a strip of bacon.

  As much as I would have liked this meal a day ago, my mood impacted my appetite. While I wasn’t spooked like Godfried, the stress was finally getting to me. We had no idea what we were going to find in the mountains today, or even how we were going to find it. Whatever we found, I had the growing hunch that it would come down to me to save the day, and while I was growing used to shouldering that burden, it still felt awkward on my shoulders.

  “Anyway,” Bernsten began with a shrug, “we could love it in the mountains! Who knows?”

  “I do not believe I will,” Godfried said,
eyeing Bernsten with distaste.

  “Nor do I, admittedly.” The boisterous knight shrugged again. “But why not hope?”

  “I suppose this is true.” Godfried still looked skeptical, but at least he sounded like he’d give it a try. He took one last bite of his ham and then pushed his plate out of the way, unable to eat anymore. Bernsten then took his plate, mine as well, and began to finish the leftovers.

  “You truly never stop, brother,” Nadeine said, arching an eyebrow at him.

  “Someone ought to eat it, right?” he said, returning the gesture.

  “Very well.” Nadeine sighed and gave up her last strip of bacon to the great eating machine that was my friend. “I will not eat it.”

  “Excellent!” Bernsten grinned and added it to his pile. He reached out to try to take some from Freyja, but she slapped his hand away, indicating that she was perfectly capable of eating her own meal. As soon as everyone finished up, even Bernsten and his leftovers, I rose to my feet and cleared my throat.

  “Alright, everyone,” I announced. “We should probably get going and try out that spell to block out the light if you’re all ready.”

  “Indeed,” Nadeine said, rising to finish up our last bit of packing and head outside. “We will never know if we are ready until we make an attempt, I suppose.”

  “This is true,” Marinka added as she stood as well. We ushered our reluctant horses back outside and made our way to the beaten path. Just as we reached it, the blinding light returned, and it was only because we were ready for it that no one was flat out blinded.

  “Ah,” Godfried cried, covering his eyes. “We must make it stop. We must make it stop.”

  “Well, let’s try then…” I squinted and shielded my own eyes as I drew a mage’s circle in the dirt beneath my feet. I cast a glance over to the tree I had rescued off to the side of the fortress and, pleased to find that it was unchanged, took renewed faith in the magic I was about to perform.

  With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and called for my cello. Its familiar mystical warmth filled my hands a moment later, and when I opened my eyes, downcast towards the ground to avoid flash blindness, the instrument’s golden light made me smile. With bow in hand, I took my seat and set it to my strings.