The Wizard's Sword (Nine Worlds of Mirrortac Book 1)

by Paul Vanderloos

  ‘Em-BAH! Ye shalt nowt feast on this one, ye hear!’ scolded the sorcerer.

  The shaggy boar-like creature quieted and grunted a mild protest before going back to sleep. The sorcerer glanced briefly up at the sorceress standing near him then grinned thickly at the erfin.

  ‘Helok, this ist our erfin then?’ he said.

  ‘Yea, that ist he. Quite the emotional one, thee ist,’ Helok said, her face contorted into a scowling half-smile.

  The sorcerer passed his eyes over the erfin and burped.

  ‘Hmmf! Emotional! Whence hath they nowt being emotional?’

  ‘Thou ist right, Krak. They art all emotional!’ she spluttered.

  Both of them broke into hysterical laughter and the creature snorted, raising one eye before replacing its head upon its forepaws. Mirrortac felt revulsion. There was a distinct odour of rotten meat and fruit in the room.

  ‘Now hearken to Krak erfin!’ Krak growled at him. ‘Ye best awake for thou ist living in the Real World. Nowt steel blade nor magic ist any match for the Hopocus so be nowt emotional, our sorcery ist real and we may choosest to return thee to oblivion; unmould thee and create some other trifling creature in your stead.’

  Mirrortac gathered his courage and spoke.

  ‘Krak. You name this place the Real World yet all here is weirdness. The Real World is the one I have lived in until now. Your foul and dark world is what I wouldst imagine the shaping of the Netherworld. My world is created of Ra and is tended by the spirits of many keeps. Ra is Creator of all things. This dark goddess has used the face of my beloved to lure me into this dark castle. What purpose do you give for luring me here? Answer me that!’ the erfin croaked, his anger refuelled.

  Krak gave rise to a slow and sinister laughter.

  ‘Emotional indeed, Helok!’ he laughed. ‘Now hearken me, Mirrortac. What thine hath laughingly called “Life” ist less than a passing light: here today and gone in the morrow. Howsoever, in the Real World of Hopocus life ist nowt some weak flame that blade or monster or sickness can snuff out. Nay, we live forever and art creatures of our own designs. We create whatsoever pleaseth our minds and live forever upon our own self-creation, nowt of some mythical God ye call Ra or any other name ye wilt fashion.

  ‘In truth it ist we who art the creators of all worlds. We created these for our amusement and they art nowt more than extensions of our powerful imaginations. Thou ist but a shadow of our imaginings, erfin so hearken to thy creators or we shalt imagine thine as nothing and thou shalt becomest nothing.’

  Mirrortac shook his head in despair. ‘Then I am truly dead and have fallen into the Netherworld,’ he said.

  ‘Thine ist nowt dead!’ Helok shouted. ‘T’is the usual manner of arrival here but as thou hath fought such a valiant battle to keepest thy body, Krak weaved the mist for me and we took you and your body both. As for the Netherworld, that ist the tale we hath put into thy head as we hath put the many tales into the many heads; tales of spirits and beautiful places and all that silliness about darkness and light,’ she said. ‘Ye art such an amusement!’

  They both laughed and mocked the erfin with shouts of ‘Jest! Jest!’

  ‘You think me amusing!’ Mirrortac was livid. ‘What of Love? Do you not love us if indeed you created us?’

  The laughter diminished but the sorcerer and sorceress quaked with inner mirth.

  ‘Love?’ Krak spluttered, exchanging whimsical glances with Helok.

  ‘Oh rainbow of my heart, dear sweet princeling!’ Helok cooed, leaning over and pouting her thin lips at Mirrortac.

  ‘My poor Mirrortac. Comest to Krak now and I shalt feed thine to Em-BAH!’ a gurgle escaped Krak’s lips.

  ‘Ist not emotion amusing?’ Helok said. ‘The erfin wouldst dwell so on this Love. Shalt we dissolve him?’

  Mirrortac was alarmed. ‘If you would dissolve me, why bring me here?’

  ‘Why not?’ Helok replied.

  But Krak motioned Helok to stop. ‘Enough Helok. We must givest this erfin his due. He ist nowt clever like us. We didst nowt bring him here to dissolve him,’ he said, adopting a serious tone. Then turning to Mirrortac he said: ‘In truth Mirrortac, thou ist one of our favourite creations and we wish to grant thee immortality in the Real World of Hopocus. Ye may think upon it as ugly but it ist nowt but the fashioning stone of our creative imaginations. Helok shalt teach thine a little of our sorcery and thou canst go about creating thy own amusing worlds. We shalt grant thee some corner of Hopocus, perhaps near Raven’s Chasm, where thou canst fashion something to thy favour. Thou shalt hath the freedom of all of Hopocus except for the Wood of Forgetfulness, which lieth between the castle and Raven’s Chasm. There we send those whose minds hath filled with the nonsense of their own feeble thoughts. For in the wood all thoughts are erased. Ist thou clear upon this matter?’ Krak beamed at Mirrortac with condescension, rubbing his hand over his rotund stomach.

  ‘If I am to be at this Raven’s Chasm to create worlds for myself, then how must I bypass the wood?’ Mirrortac asked.

  ‘Ye must fly over it,’ Krak said.

  ‘And how am I to fly? Would Helok teach me this also?’

  ‘That wouldst be my pleasure,’ Helok said, speaking with a feminine gentle voice.

  ‘Then when shall we begin?’ Mirrortac asked.

  ‘Soon!’ she replied, and clapping her hands together said: ‘But first, thou shalt feast and be merry!’

  There was a flash of sparks and a table loaded with raw meat and entrails appeared out of the air. Helok grabbed a fist full of entrails and lowered them into her mouth, munching and gorging herself without ceremony or regard. Mirrortac rose and circled the table. He sniffed at it and gagged at the putrid smell of half-rotten meat, retreating in disgust.

  ‘What!’ cried Krak, glaring at Mirrortac. He took the meat in both hands and mouthed it. ‘All the more for us!’ he announced, gleefully swallowing large chunks.

  Helok jumped upon the table and writhed in the blood and meat, biting at it like a hungry scavenger. And when Mirrortac glanced back at them, they had transformed themselves into two ugly white grubs with black eyes and feeding on the carnage. He dashed for the corner near the door and vomited.

  ‘Psst.’ Mirrortac’s attention was diverted by another sound in the room. ‘Psst.’ He wiggled his ears and glanced around the room. ‘Psst.’ There it was again.

  The door was ajar and he could see the face of a child peering up at him. The child looked around the door and beckoned to Mirrortac to come closer. She was a girl such as the demi-gods of Nerthule. She wore a skirt of wool and her hair hung loose over her shoulders in soft brown curls above limpid brown eyes.

  Mirrortac edged towards the door, keeping one eye on the grubs and Em-BAH but they were too preoccupied to notice him step out into the hallway.

  ‘What is it youngling? Have you come to help me or are you just another of these wretched sorcerers?’ he asked.

  ‘Ye judge wisely, sir,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Nowt ist as it seemeth in Hopocus but I shalt ask thee to trust me and follow. The sorcerers shalt nowt bother to trouble thee for a time. My name sir ist Beth and I am of flesh as thine art. If thou shalt cut into my skin ye shalt see the blood of my life pour without. Helok and Krak art demons of the foulest devising and art nowt of the flesh as art we.’

  The girl-child tugged at the erfin’s hand and led him through the hall and down a stairway where they entered another room. There they were greeted by an old Nerthulian demi-god who was too crippled to go anywhere but sit in a throne of a less elegant fashioning. His hair was grey and his face and skin pale and crumpled into folds. He offered a limp thin hand to the erfin and fixed him with a stare from eyes that were blue and shining. Mirrortac glanced down at the hand and placed his hand around it. The Nerthulian took the erfin’s huge hand in both of his hands and shook it up and down.

  ‘Pleased ye’ve come, sir. Me name’s Roderick,’ the Nerthulian said. ‘We’ve waited ages for thee, we have, and
that’s a fact. Beth, fetch the gentleman a stool from the corner yonder. He and I have some talking to do but we shan’t be letting him go hungry now. No sir!’

  Mirrortac wiggled his ears at the strange words then realised that since his arrival here he had understood almost every word without any feeling coming over him. At last he had found the wizard who sought him to go on this mission. Beth dragged the small throne the Nerthulian called a stool to where the erfin was standing and grabbed one for her. Mirrortac sat on the small stool, uncertain whether his size and weight would not shatter the flimsy timber. Roderick rubbed his hands together and incanted a series of magic words. A transparent outline of fruit and a baked substance materialised upon the table and gradually solidified. The girl-child clapped her hands with delight and Roderick bowed to her.

  ‘T’is a trifling trick but about all this olde wizard canst conjure up. Methinks thee wouldst find this more suited to thy appetite, sir.’ Roderick proffered some of the fruit.

  Mirrortac accepted the fruit and chewed at it tentatively. There was nothing in it that tasted displeasing. The old wizard tore off a piece of the baked substance and offered it also.

  ‘How ‘boot some lovely fresh baked bread, sir? I knowest thee hath nowt tasted of it ‘afore but methinks it shalt be to thine pleasing.’

  Mirrortac fingered the soft texture of the bread and placed a small fragment of it on his tongue. There was a mild flavour to it like nothing he had tasted before. The bread just melted in his mouth and was light upon the stomach. He started to relax and smiled at the wizard, making appreciative noises as he ate. Their faces lit up.

  ‘Master Roderick, he likes it!’ Beth exclaimed.

  ‘Yea,’ Roderick said, smiling with pride.

  After they had eaten, the wizard leant toward Mirrortac, his smile diminished into a frown of some great burden that worried him. He placed his hand upon the erfin’s shoulder and sighed.

  ‘We knowest how thee hath suffered, sir. The sorcerers art nowt the sole ones with the power to See. Old Roderick canst see many things with ‘is inner sight. Evil and good alike art but blessed or cursed wi’ it.’

  ‘All the slaves and the lost souls art dependin’ upon thee. Thine ist our one chance for freedom. And the one chance te stop the darkness spreading thru all the worlds.’

  Mirrortac sighed and allowed him to continue.

  ‘First, I shalt ask of thee thy patient ear as I explain some of what hath been ‘afore,’ Roderick said. ‘Beth and I came to Hopocus from the world known te thee as Nerthule. Much of it ist unexplored as ist Mareos and, as with thee, we both stumbled into here, but at different times. I hath been in Hopocus for 300 Nerthule years which art like thy rools. Beth hath been here but 150 years. We nowt liveth this length of time normally but in Hopocus, time ist nowt the same. We art outside the passing of the days. But alas, we do age, we do sir, I’m afraid. I was’t a wizard of strong magic when I first arrived here but Helok deceived me as she hath thine. She stole my magic from me and cast it into Raven’s Chasm where I nowt canst reach it. The chasm ist measureless and nowt can find the bottom to it. My trifling tricks art useless for all the souls trapped in Hopocus. And there be many poor unfortunates, aye.’ Roderick shook his head.

  Beth cuddled into his lap and looked back at Mirrortac with mournful eyes.

  ‘Beth here ist one of the lucky ones, sir. She was’t playing with her companions when she saw a little boy atop a hill. He was alone so she went to him to asketh of him to join her and her companions. But the next thing she knew, there was’t mist everywhere and the little boy were laughing at ‘er. He was Krak o’ course, Sorcerer of the Mist. He canst enter any world by weaving the mist and use his shape-changing to lure persons into it. Helok is the Supreme Sorceress and Em-BAH ist a diva-hog - one of the diva creatures that haunt the dreams of many men. But to the tale. I was’t out upon the battlement walk taking the hog for its stroll. T’was a daily duty for me. I saw Krak appear with Beth. She ist such a pretty child; God’s own.’ Roderick’s cheeks flushed with pinkness and he smiled. Beth sighed with approval and kissed him on his rosy cheeks.

  Roderick looked long into her eyes and beamed with love. ‘And God Bless her, she still ist,’ he said. And winking at Mirrortac he added: ‘Ye canst see fer thyself, sir. I could nowt allow this child te be feasted upon by that diva-hog or cast inte the wood where she shalt lose her mind like so many of those other poor unfortunates. So, I said to Krak “Shalt thee hand her te my care fer I am losing the use ‘o me legs and shalt hath need of a helper, someone young and strong te do me errands.” He sez “Wot errands wouldst thee be doing, old man?” and I sez “There art a few herbs in the Valley of Mists that be useful te treat me arthrites. The walk hath become too far fer this olde wizard.” He looked at me fer a bit then shoved her toward me: “Here,” he sez, “Ye can have her. She nowt have the meat fer as moch as a snack. Neither o’ ye wouldst be escaping anyhow”.’

  ‘Now sir, it ist nowt fer a body te be wandering these mists let alone a lost soul dear God, but an olde white wizard soch as meself canst offer scant comfort with these trifling tricks. Unless me magic ist recalled from the chasm, we art all trapped here forever. But now thee hath come sir, we canst embark upon our plan! And that of the sword especially!’

  ‘What can I do, Roderick?’ shrugged Mirrortac.

  ‘Sir. Mayest I call thee Mirrortac?’

  ‘That is my name,’ he replied.

  ‘Understand this. Although we art each of us within our bodily vessel, this world ist truly given over to those who hath yielded their bodies to the earth. Few canst pass through the mists and carry their bodies with them.’ Roderick leaned closer to Mirrortac, shaking a stern finger. ‘But WE HATH done this. And do thee knowest the reason?’

  Mirrortac looked dumbly at the old man.

  ‘The reason ist that we hath the magic within and t’is this magic that protects our body and soul from the likes of these wretches.’

  Beth tugged urgently at the wizard’s robe.

  ‘Yea, my child?’ he said.

  ‘Thy knowest t’is nowt magic, master. T’is our Lord God who shields us from all evil,’ she scolded him.

  Roderick chuckled. ‘Yea child. We use differing words thee and me but I still speak truth. God doth shield us but t’is the magic he giveth as the shield.’

  ‘Magic!’ Beth muttered. ‘Magic ist for the darkness!’

  ‘Hath we nowt spoken of this on many occasions, child? Wouldst thee be more comforted if I shalt call this the power of the Lord: miracles?’

  ‘Yea. T’is the power of the Lord. Nowt magic!’

  ‘Very well,’ Roderick grinned, and turning to Mirrortac said: ‘Beth was’t taught by those who call themselves the followers of the anointed one. They art afraid of my kinsmen and women who art practitioners of magic. I do nowt understand their concern as their teacher was’t the greatest magician of all. But then, what ist magic? T’is the skill to use the energies that God hath endowed upon us. It ist there fer the use of sorcerers and wizards, faithful and unfaithful, wise people and fools alike. Good and evil, darkness and light art within the minds and souls of the users for the energies art nowt good nor evil, nowt darkness nor light. But fer thee, precious angel, I shalt call these miracles and be done wi’ it for names art nowt worth the argument.’

  ‘Now, shalt another year pass as I explain the purpose to Mirrortac,’ he sighed, peering nervously at the door. Then taking Beth’s hands, he said: ‘Child, wouldst thee see if it be still safe without for they must nowt suspect our plan.’

  Beth jumped out of his lap and checked the hallway. She caught her breath and retreated quickly. ‘They await another soul, Master Roderick,’ she said.

  Roderick groaned. ‘Another soul. T’is tragic that people must despair in death and lose their way. We must then be in haste!’ He locked eyes with Mirrortac. ‘There ist a task of much risk sir that nowt but thee canst perform. I am too infirm and my mind ist nowt of the strength t
o withhold the spell of the woods. I must asketh of thee, nay beseech thee, te go through the Wood of Forgetfulness for that ist the only way te reach Raven’s Chasm.’ Roderick indicated the floor and instructed Beth to remove one of the tiles. Below the tile was a hollow space wherein lay a gold box. Beth took the box and handed it to the wizard who ran his fingers lightly around the lid, whispering some words of magic. The lid flipped open and he reached his hand in and withdrew a silver tablet inscribed with symbols.

  ‘When Helok didst vanquish me of my mag... er, miracles, she gave me the key to the chasm, knowing that I canst nowt pass through the wood. Only one of Royal title canst pass through the Wood of Forgetfulness with any chance. Me? I wouldst lose all my mind and she knew this. But a prince or a princeling canst walk the wood and nowt lose all his mind, or shalt I sayest, if he remembers to look into the tablet. For if he forgets to do this, he shalt wander like a dead man, nowt knowing the reason he come or even what be his name. T’is a risk for even a princeling, yea! But a princeling at least hath the chance and with God’s protective hand, shalt find his way out and to the chasm where the tablet must be cast. Once the tablet ist cast into the abyss, all its secrets shalt be released unto thee and with them, my divine energies also. When I am restored of the power, I shalt fly to thee and we shalt escape the kingdom of the dead together. What sayest thee, Mirrortac. Wouldst thee undertake to do this?’

  Mirrortac considered the task with a grave face. ‘Then I have truly come upon the Netherworld and yet am not dead. How is it that you know so much of me yet I know nought of you?’

  ‘T’is the Sight of the soul, Mirrortac. All of us hath the Sight but nowt all know the use of it. Shalt thee assist us sir?’