Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  The beam of power had already reached the edge of the city, ripping apart homes and buildings. Everything in its path was instantly vaporized. People, animals, trees—all gone the moment Magic passed, unyielding in its apparent focus on the castle.

  At this speed, the destruction was almost too much to absorb. As he crossed the threshold into the city, Angst was surrounded by death and chaos. He glimpsed magic wielders, people he knew, defending themselves against the bird creatures. He roared with anger and pulled Chryslaenor from his back, drawing strength from its great power. Instinctively, he reached up to the sky with his mind, desperately searching for something, anything that could help.

  Angst found what he was looking for. He could feel the thousands of birds flying overhead or scurrying along the ground. Every one of them had claws and beaks made of dense metal. He reached out for all of them, every single bird he could find, and pulled down.

  The strain of using magic on so many creatures over such a large area hurt almost as much as having his face cleaved. Angst clenched his teeth in pain as he forced them into the ground. The bird creatures screeched in panic and flailed helplessly as their beaks crashed into cobblestone roads. Those nearest Angst died on impact, their metal beaks yanked from the birds’ heads and pulled deep into the earth. Those farther away were driven into the ground, their heads buried but their bodies still above the surface, left to flop about, waiting for death.

  The attack had taken only moments, but the effort used up the last of his energy. The merest bump, and Angst would’ve slid from his swifen. He couldn’t even return Chryslaenor to his back because his arm was too weary.

  Why did it always have to hurt? Why did everything require sacrifice? Rose had almost given up her life to save him, to save all of them. He’d had to sacrifice part of himself to bond with Chryslaenor. What would he have to sacrifice to keep Magic from making Heather or Victoria its new host? Sacrifice. The realization almost struck him like a physical blow. He proposed an idea to Chryslaenor, and the sword’s sad song indicated that his idea could work.

  The pillar slowed when it struck the castle, the deafening crash resounding through the city. Walls collapsed inward as the foundation disintegrated in Magic’s path. They were destined for the throne room. He drew in a deep breath and struggled to lift himself to crouch on the swifen, urging it closer to the powerful beam of dark light. He was almost close enough to touch it, close enough to feel the intense power emanating from it, like an electrical current coursing along his skin.

  The two giant throne room doors flashed out of existence as the dark beam passed. Angst heard screaming as everyone in the room scrambled back. There was no more time. As he commanded the swifen to stop, he leaped forward with all his might, diving into the beam with Chryslaenor held before him. He wrenched, and pulled, and fought against his mind until his bond with Chryslaenor tore free.

  It had never been done before, a bond like this had never been willfully broken, and dislodging it was like pulling the cork from a drain at the bottom of the ocean. The foci was starved for Al’eyrn, for any connection, and Chryslaenor immediately latched on to the element of Magic. Angst flew into the heart of the dark tower of light and planted his sword deep into the center of the throne room floor. He flipped over Chryslaenor, crashing through a tall man and a statue woman to land on his back. His momentum carried him across the floor to the stairs before the throne, smoke rising from his tattered armor.

  Angst wondered if he was going to pass out or die again, but when he opened his eyes, he saw a familiar face. “Hi, Tori,” he said with a tired but grateful smile.

  She looked at him in stunned amazement. “Hi, Angst,” she replied, clearly relieved.

  He rolled over to watch as the dark pillar of Magic shrank to a pinprick then disappeared. Dark lightning crackled along the edges of the great blade. Angst slowly stood with a loud grunt and limped over to the sword. Magic was once again trapped, held inside the foci until it found a way out. He wanted to lift the sword, but the faintest of sounds, no longer a full chorus of music in the back of his head, told him no.

  “What’s happening to Aereon?” Victoria asked in surprise, pointing to a man at the other end of the room.

  “Who?” Angst asked.

  The tall man who had broken his fall screamed and rose from the ground. Aereon dropped the two rapiers he’d been holding as a whirlwind engulfed him, lifting him several feet into the air.

  “I did not fail you!” Aereon tried to reason with some unknown force. “I can still do this!” Another scream tore from his throat, and he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

  A tall statue of a beautiful woman walked over to Aereon and nudged him with a foot. “It is done,” she declared in her great voice. She turned to face Angst, looking him up and down. She smiled, nodded once, and then dissolved into the stone floor like a waterfall flowing into a lake.

  The queen screamed in pain. One of her eyes popped out, fell to the ground, and smashed into a thousand pieces.

  “Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Angst asked wearily as he took in the madness surrounding him.

  Rook rushed into the throne room with Heather close behind. She ran to Angst and threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. She was crying and almost incoherent as she whispered, “I love you,” over and over in his ear. Angst forced himself not to cry as waves of her, and his, emotions collided. He held Heather close and soon realized he had to lean over to embrace her. He pulled away to look down and saw the small bulge of life growing in her belly.

  “Yeah?” he asked as his eyes became wet with tears.

  Heather could only nod and hold him even tighter.

  Rook dashed over to kneel by Tyrell. “He’s still alive, but barely.”

  The queen had one fist balled up against her eye as she stumbled over to Tyrell. She dropped to both knees and took his hand in hers. “I couldn’t do anything. I’m so sorry.”

  Tyrell’s eyes fluttered open. His mouth opened like a fish gasping for its last breath, but no words came out.

  Hector, Tarness, Dallow, and Rose rode into the room. Their swifen glowed from Chryslaenor’s infusion of power, and they slid to a halt just before reaching the great sword. His friends looked beyond exhausted from the long trip, harrowed by the incredible speeds at which they’d traveled. They dismounted clumsily as their sore muscles protested the change in positions for the first time in half a day.

  Angst gently separated himself from Heather and made his way to Rose. “I need you,” he said.

  Before she could protest, Angst grabbed her wrist and brought her to Tyrell and Queen Isabelle. Rose looked at the queen’s eye socket and winced. She knelt by Tyrell and inspected his wounds without touching him.

  “Angst, I can’t heal him. I would try, but it’s too much. It would kill me,” she said, still looking over Tyrell’s body. His eyelids drooped with the heaviness of death, though he fought to keep them open.

  “Please,” Isabelle pleaded of Rose. “If there’s anything you can do.”

  “Can you transfer the wounds to someone else, like you did for me?” Angst asked.

  Rose thought about this and then nodded. “I think so.”

  Victoria stood over everyone, listening intently.

  “She can remove wounds by taking the wound on herself,” Angst explained to the princess, “or transferring the wound to someone else. Whoever she transfers these wounds to will die.”

  “Take me,” Rook offered, holding out his hand.

  “Thank you, Rook, but I have someone else in mind,” Victoria said, her eyes narrowing. She looked across the room to Aereon, who was still reeling from whatever had happened to him. “Guards, bring that man over here!”

  45

  Epilogue 1

  They were already here. Angst couldn’t remember the last time his friends had beaten him to Wizard’s Revenge, but there they were. Not in worn armor or tattered travel clothes,
not exhausted from the stress of survival. They were in fresh clothes that suited them, perfect for drinking and carousing, and well rested. He smiled, and his heart filled with warmth. Angst gripped Heather’s hand, and together they made their way through the crowd.

  Bar patrons began clapping even before they reached their seats. Several at first, and eventually more, until everyone at the bar was applauding. Angst smiled, and held out his free hand for everyone to stop. Then he relented and encouraged it for a moment, which made everyone laugh. Finally, the room became quiet. Heather stepped aside and made her way to the table. Angst looked around the bar to see the magi who’d survived, and those who’d defended Unsel in her time of need. He couldn’t put into words how proud he was.

  Graloon approached, handing him a goblet of port. Angst raised the cup and called out, “To Unsel!”

  “To Unsel!” was the hearty reply. The brief toast was enough, and the crowd returned to their conversations.

  Angst clasped forearms with Tarness and Hector from across the table. Dallow stood to embrace him in a manly hug. Rose remained seated, looking up briefly to smile at him. Angst hugged her anyway, making her pull back defensively. Since healing the queen several weeks ago, she continued to wear a patch over her right eye. He looked at it with concern, but she quickly turned away.

  Before Angst could ask Rose how she was doing, Graloon patted his back with a heavy hand. “So is it true, Angst? Tell me it is,” he boomed.

  Angst turned to face the old barkeep. “Changes are indeed coming, my friend. The queen wants guards who can wield magic. More restrictions are being lifted. Real, actual progress.”

  Graloon waved the bosomtastic server over, and grabbed the bar towel from her shoulder. Heather and Rose looked at each other, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads as she walked away. The barkeep patted at his eyes with the towel. “It almost feels like we’re being set free.” Graloon wandered back to his place behind the bar with happy tears in his eyes.

  “The kingdom is safe, Ehrde is safe, and we’re safe!” Hector proclaimed, raising his flask, and they all raised their cups to toast once again.

  “What about you, Angst?” Tarness asked, already deep in the keg. “Are you going to finally be knighted?”

  “No,” Angst replied in a surly tone. “Chryslaenor remains in the throne room, trapping magic, or whatever that thing was. No sword, no knighting.”

  Hector, Tarness, and Dallow were instantly in an uproar, complaining on his behalf. After a rash of insults to the queen and several long draws of port, Angst finally responded.

  “It’s not over yet, but really, I don’t care anymore,” he said, looking at Heather, patting her stomach. “Maybe my adventure is going to be at home for a while.”

  Everyone toasted once more. Dallow suddenly stood.

  “Do you have to go already?” Angst asked.

  His tall friend heaved a carafe off the sticky bar table with a jerk. “Just grabbing a refill. I didn’t want Rose beating up the waitress because we’re empty.”

  Rose flashed him a look without much heat. She obviously wasn’t feeling well. As Hector began regaling Heather with a tale about Angst ending up covered in monster when they saved Rose, Angst took the opportunity to question his friend.

  “What’s going on? You don’t look like yourself,” he asked worriedly.

  “I’m fine. Healing the queen wasn’t like anything else I’ve done,” Rose said in a reserved tone. “It was different than healing that wound on your face.”

  “May I see?” Angst asked, reaching for the patch.

  “No!” Rose snapped, slapping his hand. Obviously realizing her response was too sharp, she softened. “No, Angst, I’ll be fine.”

  He nodded at her but still worried.

  “You’re a bit broken,” she said, expertly changing the subject.

  “Pardon?” he asked in confusion.

  “When I healed you in the Fulk’han dungeon, even though the wounds transferred from you to the guard, I got a pretty good dose of Angst.” Rose’s thin eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him. “Everyone’s missing something in their life, everyone has a hole that needs filling. But yours is like a deep pit.”

  “Eh, I’ll be fine, too,” Angst said, shrugging off her insights.

  “Even now, without Chryslaenor?” Rose asked, but knew from the look on Angst’s face he was done with this conversation. “If you want me to try and heal you again, I will.”

  “Thanks, Rose,” he said gratefully. Angst looked at her eye patch once more. “But I think you have a bit of healing to do for yourself first.”

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to flirt with girls when your wife is around!” Tarness slurred loudly from across the table.

  Heather laughed, and everyone joined her, though involuntarily. She stopped abruptly, covering her mouth with her hand. She spoke between her fingers. “That’s never stopped him before.”

  “Angst, I’m still not clear on how you beat Magic. How do you fight an element?” Dallow asked, ever curious.

  Angst took a deep breath as he reluctantly thought of the battle with Ivan. “Magic made a mistake. It chose a host that was already broken. Ivan had been defeated before he became a host. In Fulk’han, I fought Ivan, not magic. I beat him down with his own insecurities, and he finally gave up. I’m not proud of that, but didn’t have much choice.”

  Angst looked down at his drink and took a long draw before continuing. “That thing that came out of Ivan was the element Magic, and it went looking for a new host. Someone I wouldn’t fight. It’s an element, which means it’s impossible to kill. The only thing I could think of was trapping it by sacrificing Chryslaenor.”

  “Sacrificing?” Dallow asked in surprise. “You’re still Al’eyrn, aren’t you?”

  It was the conversation that he wanted to avoid more than any other. All of his life, Angst had wanted to be a hero, and the sword had given him that missing component. Giving it up had been the single hardest thing he had ever done. It wasn’t only the pain of removing the bond, or the emptiness that removal left behind. There was a storm of questions that gathered strength every time they snuck into his head. Why now and not when he was younger? Was sacrificing Chryslaenor the only way to save everyone? Would the emptiness ever leave? How could he possibly be a hero now? And to make it worse, he could still hear the faint whisper of Chryslaenor’s song.

  In the end, Angst merely shook his head. Everyone became quiet at this revelation. Heather placed her hand on his shoulder in support.

  He looked up and smiled. “Like Hector said, we’re all safe. Isn’t that all that matters?” Angst said with feigned cheer. “The entire adventure was almost everything I always wanted. I would have it no other way. Thank you.” Angst raised his glass to his friends, and they responded in kind.

  Rose stood. “I need to get some rest before starting my new job tomorrow.”

  “That’s right, you’re working for the princess now.” Dallow stood to give her a brief hug. “That should be, uh, interesting.”

  “Heh. Handmaiden. I like how that sounds,” Angst joked.

  Rose and Heather struck him on both shoulders.

  “I’ll see everyone next weekend,” Rose said, tossing a final glare at Angst. She walked through the crowded bar and left the Wizard’s Revenge. The air outside was brisk, and Rose looked about to find the cobblestone street momentarily empty. She took a deep breath and leaned against the building. With one shaky hand, she reached up to her right eye and pressed firmly on the patch that covered it. After several moments of concentrating, the itch behind her eye went away, but she knew it would return. It always did.

  46

  Epilogue 2

  There was an awkward moment after the first hug. Their embrace was brief, and Angst stepped back and took her in. Her light pink dress was a touch more formal than he was used to seeing her wear, and this was the first time she’d worn a tiara to one of their meetings. Something about the way she
carried herself made her seem older.

  “Hi, Tori,” he said. Her reaction told him she hadn’t been called that since he left.

  “Hi, Angst.” She looked him over several times. “You’ve lost weight.”

  Angst patted his tummy and glanced down, making a comical expression that made her giggle. They were both quiet, and he could feel that things were off. He’d missed her, at times longed for her friendship, and her need of him. But it had been a very long month apart, and the moment was surreal. Things felt out of sync, so he stepped forward and hugged her again for only a little longer than he felt was proper, to urge everything back to familiar ground.

  “What was that for?” she asked, her eyebrows gently furrowed.

  “Does there need to be a reason?” Angst answered.

  Her frown deepened and she stepped toward him. Angst forced his shoulders to relax. “Tell me about your adventure,” she asked.

  Angst surveyed the maiden's courtyard. “It’s going to take a while. Won’t we get in trouble?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “There are no more secret meetings. My mother knows we’re both here, though I’m pretty sure she always did. I think you've earned her trust.”

  He nodded slowly, not completely believing her, then they both sat on a stone bench near the fountain. She moved close so their knees were touching, and Angst let it all out. For the first time since returning, he shared every minute detail he could remember. Until now he’d only told highlights. Heather was more excited about being pregnant than listening to the boring details. The queen and her cabinet wanted only specifics on dangers and the changes to Fulk’han. Nobody else had asked, so he was grateful that he could finally share everything. Victoria paid close attention to every word, never once questioning or interrupting. By the end, he was exhausted, and relieved, as though a great burden had been lifted.