Wizard of Elements

by Calista Lambrechts

  I gave a toothy grin and opened my eyes to fasten my grip on Tarauntis’ horns again.

  The dragon gradually slowed down and came to a stop. Still flapping his wings, but only staying in one spot high up in the air. I looked down below. It was a peaceful little village near a river. It looked like a part of the one main river flowing through Ysellian, the Shivering River. I guess this was supposed to be the Water Village. Nice transport then!

  “What are we doing here?”

  “I noted your body being carried here by the villagers just before meeting your soul.”

  The soul: meaning me sitting here on his neck right now. In case you’ve missed it.

  “Do me a favour and please go meet a man named Yoldrig in Doyelna. He will take you to Imperion, Dragon of Air, high up in the Snowy Blue Mountains. Go speak with Imperion. Tell him, ‘Death falls upon all’ and he will trust you… hopefully.”

  I gave but a single nod.

  “It will be done.”

  “Remember, I will protect you the best I can. I have vowed to do just that. Just call my name when in trouble and I shall come, but be sure it to be a real emergency or else I will not even bother to show up. I’m quite busy this time of year. With the war and all, you know. Lots of people die in these sort of things.”

  “Okay, but isn’t it going to get crowded around here in the Realm of the Void what with most of the, uh, mortals dying over the ages?”

  “No, not at all. You see: Only those who cannot move on is trapped here. Most move on, but some get left behind. Perhaps loved ones that cannot let go of them after death or if there is still unfinished business. Some do not even realize that they are dead… There are lots of reasons that prevent souls to rest Nevertheless that, the Realm of the Void is relatively large, extremely, in case you haven’t noticed the shifting scenery...”

  My mind drifted to the thought of Terrowin’s dream. I tried to ignore it for now. No, I couldn’t. Was that guy around here somewhere?

  “That’s so sad.”

  “Indeed it is.”

  I felt some sort of warmth growing underneath me. I noted the dragon’s neck turning that same dark flaming purple colour yet again. A sign that he was about to unleash full fiery fury. It started to burn me, maybe because I was sitting on his neck.

  “Tarauntis?” I asked, anxiously trying to figure out what was going on. But it didn’t stop his neck from heating up.

  “Stop!” I yelled. I climbed further up onto his one horn and tried to escape the unbearable heat. I hugged the horn and dramatically cried, “Oh the agony! It burns!” It didn’t work.

  “STOP IT! You’re absolutely mad!” If I didn’t demand him to stop soon, my bum would’ve been roasted. Luckily he heard me this time.

  “Oh sorry. I’m still trying to resist the urge to burn this village down. It looks so… vulnerable.”

  Ah, typical dragon behaviour. Fortunately, his neck cooled down and I climbed back down, mumbling the words, “Hot, hot!” as I tried to sit.

  “Please do not fret for what’s about to ensue.”

  I gave a loud sigh.

  “What? Failed to resist the urge to fry things I see.”

  “No, not that. Although – you sure I shouldn’t -”

  “No.”

  “Perhaps only just a little?”

  “No.”

  “Just a spark.”

  “No.”

  “Please, just this once…”

  “No.”

  “But-”

  “Get that urge of yours under control and focus, Tarauntis! Besides, my body is down there. I’m not about to let you cook it to a golden brown!”

  He sighed disappointedly and quickly changed the subject before his urge to burn down the village picked up again.

  “Very well. Let go of my horns.” I obeyed and let go of them.

  “Okay, I’ve let go. What now?” Tarauntis immediately took an aggressive spin and sent me falling to the ground. I screamed as I fell through the air with flailing arms. I must’ve fallen about four or five thousand feet.

  “Do not worry! You will fall right back into your body without any serious pain or injuries! Though side effects may include nausea, headaches, death, a case of insanity or back pain. Enjoy!” he called out to me from above. His voice faded away as the distance between us grew. I could hardly hear anything above the wind as I fell. I gulped and continued my screaming session, which was even worse so after hearing about all those horrendous side effects...

  Wait, did he say… one of the side effects might be death?!

  CHAPTER 21

  THE MINES OF MANTRA

  TERROWIN

  REALLY, I DIDN’T EXACTLY KNOW what happened… One moment there’s a colossal tree crashing down on me, the next, I find myself curled up in some sort of underground tunnel, sinkhole perhaps, an earthly tunnel. I heard a creak or two and knew that the tree above me was about to collapse further into the ground and most likely onto me if I didn’t get out of there. I leapt out of the way as the tree collapsed, missing me by mere inches. My vision had blurred. I noticed a few blurred figures standing in front of me, but I can’t say much about what happened next since the next thing I knew, I fell unconscious.

  I had no idea for how long I’ve been out, but I leisurely opened my eyes, finally coming to. I was covered with patches and stains of soot and dirt.

  I noted that I was lying on a hard stony bed with a few animal skins on it to act as warm thin furry blankets. It wasn’t very comfortable. I groaned and slowly turned my head to my right hand-side with my vision still busily adjusting to the dimly lit atmosphere. I noticed a man standing next to my bed.

  I blinked to focus my vision. My eyes broadened with surprise the soon as my vision had completely cleared. I yelped and immediately shot upright, too fast for my liking, leaving me with a moment’s headache and back pain.

  I was absolutely bewildered.

  “I’ve been abducted by hobbits!” I yelped without thinking twice, still somewhat shaken from pervious occurrences.

  The man frowned.

  “We’re not hobbits!” he said, his tone of voice relying heavily on some sort of accent.

  “We are proud and courageous dwarves!”

  Ah, that makes more sense. I don’t think hobbits would prefer a home deep underground.

  Strange dwarven mechanisms decorated the area with the constant sound of blacksmithing echoing throughout the caverns.

  A lot of plump dwarves jumped about from one mechanism to contrivance, creating new artefacts, forging metal weapons with the clang of their hammers, mining priceless stones, melting gold and whatever else dwarves do for a living. It was like a giant underground lair with an earthen roof, a rocky outcome and lots of stalagmites and stalactites covering the area on various spots.

  It was so big that a pod of whales could easily pass through without bumping into anything.

  Torches perched to the walls and the shining glow of sweltering melted gold left the mines dimly lit.

  Note to self: Stay away from the melted gold.

  “Where am I?” I asked curiously.

  “You are in tha mines of Mantra, a mine tha’ has existed for as many as centuries.”

  The dwarf had a deep, scruffy, coarse voice.

  He had thick red-orange hair that came together as one with his thick curly beard of the same colour. He wore an iron helmet and dwarven armour complete with metallic textures of grey.

  His eyes glared angrily at me. I guessed him to just being his usual cantankerous self. Dwarfs are known for their temper here in Ysellian.

  “Mantra? Doesn’t that mean song, hymn and or tune?”

  The dwarf growled and scowled at me.

  “Do ya have a problem with tha’? I think it suits the mine just fine.”

  “How so?”

  Perhaps I should cool it with the questions... He doesn’t exactly look very pleased to meet me… and
even less so to answer all my questions.

  “Tha sound of all these dwarven machines at work is music to mah ears.”

  He laughed at his own response. I looked down to check myself.

  “Why am I covered in dirt?”

  “We tried to bury ya, but sadly discovered tha’ you were still alive. Our eldest advised tha’ we drag ya all the way through our tunnels to leave ya here until ya eventually wake up.”

  I snorted. I’d hardly say that being alive was sad news.

  Face the truth. They really are stubborn.

  I never trusted dwarves, and I never will. My father has quite a history with them and I intend not to make the same mistake as he did once. I was on the verge to crossing my arms, but the unbearable pain at my right arm reminded me of my cruel fate and ill-fated reality. I couldn’t help but wince.

  Wonderful. Just wonderful!

  The dwarf said his name was Borin. This waist-high man also said that he’d show me around, mostly because he had no choice. As he led me through the gigantic mines, he’d always warn me to ‘duck’ or to ‘watch out’ for oncoming obstacles. Unfortunately he’d always say that right after I got hit by the passing obstacles...

  I was starting to think that he was doing that on purpose.

  He led me through a series of outstanding rooms, each simply more amazing than the last. All were met with an earthen floor, giant pillars of finely carved stone helping to keep the earthen, natural ceiling up there. He told me some of each room’s proud history. I’m sure that if he had told me all of it, I’d never hear the end of it.

  But I’m not actually complaining. I have always been fond of history. Dwarven, elven – history is history.

  As we walked through all the spectacular rooms, most of the dwarfs stopped with what they were busy doing, or at least slowed down their pace, and stared at me as though I’ve grown a third arm. Probably never saw a human before if you ask me.

  As we walked on we came across a smaller room. The floor was made out of thin smooth golden tiles. The walls were built of large sandstones. Giant columns stood sideways of the rooms, two on each side, in attend to hold up the ceiling of stone. A ceiling that had pictures of the universe and star constellations carved into it with the most delicate of skill. Almost like a fine work of art with priceless value.

  The whole room was dark, but streams of melted gold flowing across the floor sideways of the room helped with the lighting and sent shadows dancing across the smooth floor tiles and uneven textured walls. The room contained seven pedestals spread out across the room and only one massive ancient dwarven door located at the other end of it.

  Borin stepped forward and toward the large ancient door. I thought that he would start some sort of awe-inspiring process and or ritual to open the door in a highly advanced way that portrayed their centuries of gathered knowledge, but I was way off.

  He hit it one or two times with his giant double-sided axe and grunted. After spinning his axe and down by his side and then sheathed it behind him. He raised

  his hands.

  “I always forget how to open this damned door!”

  He stared irately at the door and kicked it as hard as he could, letting his anger and frustrations out on it. I absentmindedly stroked my chin and looked around the room for answers.

  “Hmm... let me try.”

  I walked closer and inspected the door. I was glad the melted gold was there to shine a bit of light in the room that scared the shadows into the deepest recesses. There was a huge symbol on the door. It was a double-sided axe and a stone hammer that crossed over each other on a triangular shape, surrounded by a ring divided in half along with some ancient writing on it. It made sense since the axe was their national weapon and the hammer represents their forging and skill.

  “This is elven writing?” I asked. Borin nodded. It did made me wonder why an underground dwarven door would have elfish writing on it. Maybe some sort of term on ground of a truce between elves and dwarves?

  Two fine golden pedestals stood sideways of the door, each holding a plate with ashes in it. I looked back at the entrance of the room we passed through and noticed the same two golden pedestals standing sideways of the open archway. The same two stood against the walls sideways of the room in between the two columns. One lone pedestal stood in the middle of the room. There were seven in total. It’s used for fire I guess.

  I once read something in a book. It was about the elven language. I had taken some of my time to study a few of those words once. I regretted nothing.

  As a dwarf, I took my guess and guessed that Borin wouldn’t exactly be that familiar with the elven language, but it didn’t stop me from trying.

  “Let me see here...” I took a closer look.

  “Good luck tryin’ to figure it out.” Borin said dryly. I turned my head and met his eyes.

  “What’s behind this door anyway?”

  “The home of tha’ dwarves: a place to feast and celebrate. We should really get someone to look at tha’ arm of yers. Ha, that which you have just witnessed was merely our workspace, nothing but the minin’ corporation.”

  “Just the workspace,” I repeated.

  That would mean that this entire place was truly incredibly massive if what I’ve seen wasn’t even half of it… Okay, that might be a bit exaggerated. Let’s just say itis half.

  I leaned closer to read the writing.

  “It says, ‘Sahullsta shai na porta se na mero.’”

  “And yer point is ...?” I sighed and rolled my eyes.

  “Just give me a chance to think here.” I tried to recall my research word by word and tried to figure out the sentence which was hidden in the elven language.

  “I got it!”

  Surprised, Borin’s eyes widened.

  “You did, did ya?” I shot him a warning look to not try and get me on my nerves.

  “Don’t act so surprised.” I took one more look at the inscription and narrowed my eyes.

  “It says, ‘Fire shall light the path for the creator.’”

  Borin heaved a heavy sigh, almost as though there was no hope.

  “Darn these elves and their riddles! What does tha’ mean?”

  I studied the text and the symbol for a little while before answering. An idea had sparked in my mind.

  “Okay, here is the obvious part: We are going to need fire.”

  “And where do we get tha’? Mah sticks n’ tools are all back thar in the mine ya woke up in.” I grinned and cracked my knuckles.

  “We don’t necessarily need any of your tools.”

  Borin smacked his head with the palm of his hand in frustration.

  “Then how else do we get fire, human?”

  “The name’s Terrowin.”

  “Sure it is.”

  I stared at him in disbelieve.

  “How can’t you believe me on my own name?”

  “Don’t trust ya.” Borin folded his arms. “I think I’ll just go with human for now.”

  “Seriously? You are unbelievable.”

  “Want me to go with annoyin’ human?” I frowned and muttered, “No, but I’d rather consider being called by my name.”

  “Want me to break tha’ other arm of yers? I’d be more than happy to.”

  “No, I’m fine, but thanks for the offer.”

  After that discussion was over, we focused on the situation at hand: Getting that door open.

  “Anyway, I’m a fire mage. You know, a Wizard of Fire. I can just summon fire to help us. Easy.”

  Borin knitted his eyebrows.

  “I’m not good with magic. I call it a shortcut for indolent people. Here is what I understand under the term ‘magic’: Hit tha thin’ until it drops dead. Or in this case, hit the damned door until it finally decides to open before I take mah shirt off. Mah grandfather once did it and the door cracked. It opened right after the sight of him without his shirt on.”

  He stare
d silently at the door, hands on his hips, one foot taping impatiently on the ground.

  “It’s still not openin’. Tha’s it. I’m takin’ mah shirt off. It’ll probably be effective since I haven’t shaved in years.”

  “No! That won’t be necessary!” The last thing I wanted to see was Borin without his shirt on.

  “Why no’? I’m only five hundred years old.”

  “Five hundred years. Wow. That’s…”

  “Young, yes, I know. Mah skin still feels as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Just look at me. What do ya think?”

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  I wouldn’t exactly call an old wrinkly skin smooth, but if it suits him, then fine. This was getting too awkward for me anyway.

  “Indeed.”

  Apparently dwarves were unfamiliar with sarcasm…

  “What do we do then? Mah best solution is hittin’ tha thing. At least I’ll be doin’ somethin’ and not just stand still tryin’ to summon somethin’.”

  “Well enjoy the hitting then. At least I will be doing something useful in that point of view.” Borin snorted and withdrew his oversized axe. He ran towards the door and attacked the thing like there was no tomorrow.

  Meanwhile, I closed my eyes and stood completely still to try and concentrate. I stuck out my hand and a flaming hot ball of fire ignited. I went towards the left pedestal and set it on fire. I went to the one on the right and lit it as well, but, before I could take a good look at what I had done, both flames extinguished, almost willed to die by some unnatural force.

  “What the…?” I looked around the room for some more answers.

  “‘We need fire,’ you said. Bad news, I don’t think it’s workin’!” Borin chided. I took that as an insult since he tried to mimic my voice in a thin and girly sort of way the best he could.

  “Give me some time to focus here!”

  I glanced at the ceiling.

  The constellations. The seven pedestals.

  It was like two pieces of a puzzle that belonged together. Then I guess I was the one to reunite them.

  “I think those pedestals should be lighted in a certain order.”