“An adequate mix of offense and defense,” Deraj commented. “The true purpose of your magic is to protect all who require aid, though at times that will mean you must create defensive obstacles for enemies to overcome. You must master your magic to influence the entire vicinity needing your aid on command. Whether there is one enemy or a thousand, you must understand how to prevent harm to anyone and to provide defense or offense in all regards, concurrently.”
“What if there are too many attackers to stop at once?” Caedmon wondered.
“You speak of an impossibility. If you are unable to protect all needing aid, then you are weak and limiting the Ikalreev’s magical ability. You must allow the magic to flow through you without inhibiting its power,” Deraj explained. “The magic is not the limitation; your perceptions are what prevent you from overcoming the obstacles. A master of nature is able to overcome all odds only if he has undeniable will and acceptance of his power.”
Caedmon listened to his master’s explanations, but he could not fathom controlling the magic in such ways to defend against attacks in multiple directions or simultaneous crises.
“I perceive your struggles, my creation. Allow me to open your mind. You should be able to control the magic and also let it flow through you to act at the same time, effectively appearing as if you control it in totality, when in fact you breathe with it in harmony. The magic will allow you to control it, but you must also allow the magic to control you. Watch, and I will show you what you are capable of.”
The ogres and innocent citizens disappeared, and in their place appeared the four previous scenarios. The little boy desperately hanging onto the ledge for his life appeared on the guardian’s left side, and the soldier defending against the two evil creatures on his right. The little girl being dragged away by the armored orc appeared behind Deraj, and the little boy crying as the snake slithered toward him appeared behind Caedmon.
A green light came to life in Deraj’s eyes, and he made a single, subtle movement of his hand as it hung relaxed next to his side. In response to that single motion, four simultaneous events took place. First, two vines shot out of the ground and crushed the snake’s head. Second, two wooden spikes erupted from the ground and pierced the chests of the two evil creatures who attacked the soldier, and they were killed midmovement. Third, roots extended below the hanging boy’s feet and provided a ledge for him to stand on as several more roots extended out of the cliff to provide steps so the boy could climb up to safety. Fourth, a vine extended and wrapped around the orc’s neck as grass blades wrapped around the beastly warrior’s feet. Then a massive wooden spike pierced the orc’s breastplate and killed it where it stood.
“But you did not move. I saw nothing to indicate any harmony,” Caedmon remarked.
“Mastery over nature and harmony with the heart beckon the magic to act without physical action. You must attune yourself to the heart of nature. When you master it, the magic’s heart will take action in accordance with your emotions and thoughts alone. At that time, the physical motion is merely for exhibiting prowess, not for function,” Deraj explained, “Now, try again.”
Three wooden pillars appeared before the guardian, called by the trial’s energy. Caedmon raised his hands toward the pillars and concentrated hard on the action he wished the magic to make. As the green glow in his eyes intensified, vines erupted from the ground and wrapped around the three pillars at the same time.
“Good, but vines are the most basic ability of nature’s heart,” the magical being remarked. He then whisked away the vines with a motion of his hand. “Try again, but let the magic communicate its analysis.”
Caedmon attacked the three pillars again under his master’s direction, and Deraj quickly motioned the vines away in response.
“Insufficient,” the being said. “You must release your mind. You inhibit yourself . . . let the magic flow through you, and let nature breathe.”
The wolf breathed and closed his eyes as he attempted to calm his mind. He focused his energy and cleared his thoughts to make space for the magic to flow through him. He relaxed and raised a hand forward with eyes still closed and breathed out with a heavy breath. He could feel it rise within him; the heart of nature’s magic was warm, inviting, and radiated through his core. The guardian sensed a faint unspoken urgency coming from the heart and listened to its call.
The guardian opened his eyes and made an upward motion with his hand, and in answer, a sturdy wooden arm extended out of the ground. The hand slammed down against the dirt, and then a second hand exploded from the soil. A creature composed of timber and leaves emerged from the ground and rose to a height of twelve feet. The magical timber beast roared and attacked the three pillars with furious might. Its sharp wooden hands raked across the pillars and splintered them into many shards as they exploded into shrapnel and filled the air. Once the pillars were sufficiently shredded, the beast turned toward the wolf guardian and roared.
“Much better,” Deraj asserted. “The magic you wield is capable of many wondrous expressions of will. Listen to the magic’s heart, and it will provide a way for you to overcome your obstacles should you ever find yourself lacking in confidence or ability.”
“Yes, master,” Caedmon replied with a slight bow.
“When you find harmony with and mastery over the magic, then you will have a greater understanding than you could ever currently imagine. You will be able to control wildlife and bend animals’ minds to your will, and even possibly sentient creatures. Though the latter will provide a struggle even when you are able to call yourself a master of nature, for no sentient being is willfully going to hand over themselves.” Deraj provided insight, but then a serious disposition flowed over the being. “Under no circumstance will you use this potential with evil intention. If you do, then you will answer to me.”
“You?” Caedmon failed to understand.
The magical being did not answer the wolf’s question. “Focus on your present power and growing in it; the rest will come with time. Your magic must be used for protection and mass dispersion. You control your environment and are able to affect all things around you.”
“Understood,” the wolf answered.
Deraj lifted a hand to the sky and commanded, “Continue.”
This time instead of wooden poles appearing as the wolf’s adversaries, twelve Hyips coalesced before the guardian. They snarled at the ancient protector and laughed with a hyenalike vocalization as he prepared himself for his master’s next test.
“Speed is your ally; hesitation is your enemy. Your thoughts will hinder you. Let go and feel the heart within,” Deraj proclaimed. “Begin.”
The Hyips charged the wolf in unison with snarling jowls and crazed eyes. Caedmon dug his feet into the soil, and green light radiated from his eyes as the magic began to communicate with him. He breathed deeply and readied for the beasts’ onslaught as he realized his master would not let him go unscathed. He listened for the magic’s heart within and sought his harmony.
◆◆◆
A sizzling and snap of roaring air eased into Ehreion’s ears as he slowly regained consciousness. The air was scorching, as if he sat in a forger’s oven, and it entered his lungs with an uncomfortable burn. His eyes flickered open, and an orange hue of light danced around him. The dwarf groaned in discomfort as he rolled over on his side and regained his vision. He glanced around and was startled to see the unfamiliar surroundings of a barren landscape scorched by fire. The charred landscape’s perimeter was consumed in flames, and the dwarf could not see beyond them, though he could not tell why.
The dwarf stood up and groaned as his stiff body ached from its long slumber. He scanned the burning environment for any route of escape and realized there was none. He stretched and rubbed his neck as he tried to alleviate some of his soreness.
“How did I end up here?” Ehreion whispered under a groan.
The dwarf walked off his small platform and onto the solid landscape. He moved toward
the center of the featureless area and wondered what he had gotten himself into and how he could get out of it. He shook his head in frustration, clueless as to his surroundings.
“What is wrong, Ehreion?” A voice sounded behind the dwarf, back toward the platform he had left.
The sturdy warrior spun around and hunkered down into a battle stance with fists up, though he saw no one. “Who said that?”
“I did.” The same voice echoed behind him again but in the opposite direction from the platform.
The hefty figure rotated with a stern glare as a slender creature appeared. “And who are you?”
The magnificently robed stranger responded, “I am Deraj Nairakaz, the Prime Archmage.”
“The prime what? You do not sound familiar.” Ehreion tilted his head as he tried to remember the tall, slender figure before him. “Nope, I cannot remember you. Have we met?”
“No,” the stranger with orange irises replied.
“How do you know my name?”
“An angel told me your name,” Deraj remarked.
“A what?” Ehreion croaked in growing aggravation. “What is that, and where am I? And why do you not care that we are surrounded by fire?”
“An angel is a being from Heaven. They can act as a messenger or an unrivaled warrior. This is the Four Trials, birthplace of the Ikalreev spell to defend the intelligent races of your time. The fire is part of the trial.” Deraj answered the dwarf’s questions in succession. “Anything else, dwarf?”
“Yes!” Ehreion exclaimed with fervor. “How did I get here?”
“You were brought here by Caedmon Conn, the protector of the races and the first Ikalr—” Deraj was cut off.
“Forget it! I will presently settle for knowing nothing, if you just tell me how to get out of here,” Ehreion growled as none of the stranger’s words made any sense to him.
The magic-born being remained stoic and declared, “A means of departure will not appear until you pass the trial.”
Ehreion grumbled under his breath. “Bah, and I am stuck with a madman. Great . . . just great. Too many ales again, Ehreion? Maybe I should take a night off.”
The dwarf rubbed his head and realized his helm was gone. He could not recall removing it, though he was not really surprised as he could not remember much at the moment anyway. The burly warrior stroked his magnificent red beard and thought about his options.
“You must master the Ikalreev magic within you and pass the Trial of Flame in order to leave this place. Are you prepared, Ehreion Hammerforge?” Deraj queried the dwarf.
Ehreion was not listening. Instead, he was deep in thought while stroking his beard and mumbling, “Hmm, yes. I suppose that could work.” He eyed the elegant robes of the tall being. “Well, let us give it a go . . .”
The dwarf charged the magical being and roared with a crazed expression. The stout soldier in his partially missing armor ran full speed at the Ikalreev figure.
Deraj raised an eyebrow in bewilderment at the dwarf’s odd reaction and questioned, “What are you attempting to achieve?”
Ehreion threw his arms forward and leaped at the frail being. Deraj bent forward slightly as he watched the absurd dwarf pass through his noncorporeal form, failing to tackle him. The dwarf crashed to the ground with a stunning impact as he struggled to understand what had just happened.
The dazed dwarf moaned as he recovered. “All right, I must have missed something there.” He rolled over and slowly eased back up onto his feet. “Passed right through you, I did. Should have laid you out flat with that attack.”
“I have no corporeal form; therefore, you cannot physically harm me,” Deraj explained.
“Hmm, very well,” Ehreion replied as he waved a hand through the magical being’s intangible form. “All right, what must I do again to leave this place?”
“You must master the Ikalreev magic within you and pass the Trial of Flame,” Deraj reiterated.
The dwarf cracked his knuckles and then his neck. “Yeah, that sounds like something I do not want to do. Might you be able to create a magical brew, one that is extra strong? I need ale to deal with whatever this is.” The dwarf motioned to his surroundings. “Seriously, though, I have no idea what I am doing here. Can you just create a stairway to the surface so I can leave?”
Deraj lifted his chin in disdain for the dwarf’s ill regard of the magnitude of his purpose and the disrespect shown to him. “If you continue to defy the trial and the magic’s will, then you will struggle, dwarf. Be prepared to suffer; the Trial of Flame is one lacking mercy and compassion. You will experience extreme immolation as you learn to control the abilities of mass destruction. The flame burns all, stifles the air, and causes limitless devastation. You will either stay here for an eternity, scorned by its merciless temper, or you will learn to master the power caged within you and find harmony with the magic’s heart. The fate of the world depends on your stubborn mind, as unfortunate as that may be, and you are the one the magic has called to war and to embrace the flame.”
Ehreion tilted his head, narrowed his eyes at the magical being, and raved. “Struggle? You think me weak?” The dwarf beat his chest with one fist. “I am a dwarf of the Verdunmull Scar, born for war! Beaten by only the drink!”
The magical imitation of the unrivaled Ikalreev Archmage burst into flame while remaining unharmed, then bent down toward the dwarf to look into his eyes. “I will wake the magic within you, even if I must lay bare your frailty and bring low your hubris.”
The Ikalreev’s eyes began to glow a deep orange as the Trial of Flame began.
Ehreion beat his fists together. “All right, let’s go!”
A high-pitched reptilian roar sounded in the deep dark beyond the flame perimeter.
The dwarf spun, peered into the cave beyond, and cursed. “What now?”
Deraj smirked. The ground erupted below the dwarf and sent the auburn-haired warrior flying with fire trailing his feet. As the stout soldier’s flight crested, a long, silver dragon emerged from the deep dark and snatched the dwarf from the air. The pearlescent silver scales reflected the firelight in brilliant radiance. The dragon’s head was long and narrow with short, bony ridges running down its skull. Down the long, slender tail of the dragon were skeletal spikes protruding from the tail’s midpoint to its tip in patterned rings. With every breath, the dragon released a chilled cloud of air, and each icy breath billowed around its snout as it flew forth with great speed.
The slender beast carried the dwarf around the room in a fluid yet majestically coiling motion, and the helpless warrior shouted the whole way as the nauseating flight pattern caused him discomfort.
“Put me down, you foul creature!” Ehreion shouted, dizzy from the swirling motion.
Deraj warned him, “That is a Silverwing dragon of the Niyere Mountain Range. What will you do, Ehreion, to combat it?”
“If I had me ax, I would use it!” the dwarf shouted at the top of his lungs as he dangled below the dragon.
“Then you are nothing without your ax?” Deraj questioned.
“I did not say that! But my ax would help,” the dwarf yelled.
The trial master created a new threat as he knew the dwarf would be hard to mold to the magic’s will. He would have to break the hardened warrior if he wished to awaken the magic within him. It would take much for the dwarf to hear the heart within and to find harmony with its call.
The Ikalreev Archmage lifted a hand and shouted, “A second threat has emerged, stalwart soldier, and you are running out of time.”
Fireballs shot out of Deraj’s lifted palm and blazed past Ehreion’s helpless form as the dragon attempted to dodge the incoming fire. The dragon shrieked in response to its ranged assailant, and its flight became more jarring for the dwarf as it dove and swirled fluidly through the air, evading the magical projectiles.
“You are a terrible shot!” Ehreion cried out. “Perhaps an elf can help you train your accuracy after this misunderstanding is over!”
>
Deraj steamed at the dwarf’s jesting and aimed a fireball directly at the warrior. The blazing projectile arched through the air and hit its mark, Ehreion, knocking him from the dragon’s grasp. The dragon’s shrill shriek pierced the air as losing its prey angered it. The dwarf saw his collision with the unforgiving ground rapidly approaching, and he cried out as he braced for impact.
Immediately before he crashed into the ground, another fireball exploded around Ehreion and altered his trajectory. He flew backward at a descending angle, slamming into the ground and skipping across its surface. He continued on and rolled until all his momentum ceased.
The disoriented soldier groaned from the attacks and took a moment to recover. He shook his head and opened his eyes, grunting through the pain. The dwarf turned over, lifted himself up, and then placed a hand on his lower back and stretched a muscle.
“No hard feelings, mage.” Ehreion let out a heavy breath. “Although I think you need practice.”
“I intended to hit you,” Deraj asserted.
“You did?” the dwarf inquired, confused. “Hmm, I misread the situation, then. I thought we were both fighting the dragon.”
The magical being lifted an eyebrow in annoyance. “I am sorry; were you fighting? I saw you hanging in the dragon’s claws, a helpless and useless dwarf.”
The last comment struck Ehreion painfully, and he grew agitated at the being’s words. He hated being called useless; he loathed that word. Rage boiled inside his heart as the insult brought back painful memories. He huffed in anger and tightened his fists until his bones ached.
“Ah! Did I hit a nerve, dwarf?” Deraj smirked. “To be fair, when have you been useful?”
Ehreion lowered his gaze and strained to avoid his buried emotions. “You would be smart to stop while you can. I care not if you are a specter. I will find a way to kill you if you continue.”
“If that is what it takes, then by all means, attempt the impossible, useless dwarf.” Deraj continued pestering him.
Ehreion charged at his antagonizer and roared in scorching fury at the Ikalreev’s insults. He would not allow the stranger to get away with calling him useless, the term he so hated, and although he did not have his ax, that fact would not prevent him from doing all he could to put the magic wielder in his place.
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