by V. St. Clair
His father didn’t even bother blocking the attack, and somehow the Black Prism absorbed the spell without any visible sign of damage. Hayden targeted his father’s heart and cast Stop, trying not to dwell on the consequence if he was successful; he had told everyone that he was willing to do what was necessary to win, and now it was time to step up.
In a way, this was better than having the extra week to dwell on the inevitable, slowly counting down the hours of his life. The abruptness of the fight prevented him from thinking about anything except the battle, before his courage could fail him.
His father blocked the spell and fired back something that Hayden tried to shield himself against. The shield was only half-formed when the spell shattered it, the magic grazing one arm and making it feel like he was being burned alive from the inside out.
Somewhere outside was the unmistakable hunting cry of a magically-inclined dragon, but there was no time to figure out which of the three dragonlings it was. Praying that Bonk was alright, Hayden dove behind the worktable and knocked it onto its side so he could hide behind it. He threw himself into his magic with reckless abandon, peeking out from behind the table and casting faster than he had ever cast in his life.
He started with Sear, which was deflected, and then followed with Stun, Blind, Break, and Pierce in rapid succession, before ducking behind the table again.
His father avoided the first three spells—barely—but Hayden’s piercing spell caught him in the shoulder and Hayden saw his father wince.
I wonder how long it’s been since anyone actually landed a spell against the Dark Prism? Hayden twisted the violet prism rapidly in front of his eye, seeking fresh inspiration. If I survive long enough to see Asher, I’ll have to tell him about my accomplishment.
His father was clearly furious at being wounded, and returned with a volley of magic that seemed to explode out of him at random. The first spell slammed into the table and knocked it into Hayden so hard that he got thrown into a backward roll. The second spell caused the table to break into dozens of wooden fragments, which flew at Hayden like spears. He tried to roll out of the way but was only partially successful, and one of the fragments of wood sliced through his pant leg, drawing blood as it flew past.
In a rush of adrenaline, Hayden cast Clone again even as he was rolling out of the way, over and over until half a dozen copies of himself were attempting to right themselves alongside him.
“Not this time,” the Dark Prism said coldly, twisting the Black Prism in his eyepiece and casting some sort of magical net that seemed to rush past Hayden, banishing all of the copies as it made contact. “Where did you get that prism?” he demanded, as Hayden dodged another spell and was almost crushed by a falling bookshelf.
“You shouldn’t have underestimated me, Father!” Hayden yelled back from beneath the detritus of books and splintered wood. “I’m as much a Frost as you are.”
He was still sitting on the floor, but there was no time to get up. Hayden’s sweaty palm almost caused him to drop the remaining prism fragment—now half its original size—as he turned it in front of his eye.
This is going to get terrifying when my prism is spent.
He started to cast Break, but his father cast his own spell at Hayden’s prism, and Hayden was barely able to throw it away from him before it exploded in brilliant white light, which surely would have blinded him or forced some kind of hideous light-sickness upon him if he had still been looking through it. The effect of the dark magic being used on it caused the violet prism to shudder violently and then shatter into a mist of fine powder.
Well, I gave it a good try…
He hoped his father’s shoulder was really hurting him. It would be some small consolation to cause the man any amount of inconvenience.
Aleric bestowed a condescending smirk upon him at last, twisting the Black Prism slowly in front of his eye as though deliberating over which spell would be the best one to kill his only son with. Hayden was ashamed at the momentary spike of fear that surged through him, that made him want to cry out that he was supposed to be kept alive long enough to have his Source drained, because it would buy him another few minutes of precious life, if nothing else. He mastered the impulse and took a deep breath, determined to face death like a man, not like a scared little boy.
His last, wild prayer as the Dark Prism prepared to cast was that hopefully whoever had brought down the defenses around the estate would be better armed than he was.
Something that looked like black lightning burst out of the Black Prism and streaked towards him so rapidly that Hayden didn’t even have time to do anything other than close his eyes and prepare for death.
The unexpected crash that heralded powerful magic colliding set off a shockwave so forceful that it knocked him flat on his back. Wondering why he wasn’t dead yet, Hayden opened his eyes and saw the remnants of light dissipating from around some sort of shield that had been cast in front of him.
Eyes widening in surprise, Hayden struggled back to a sitting position and saw who had shielded him from death at the last second.
Asher.
The Prism Master was at the door of the library, panting as though he’d sprinted the whole way there from Mizzenwald, his combat circlet around his head and fully-loaded with prisms. A violet prism was in his primary eyepiece, with a clear one in the compounding slot in front of it.
Hayden couldn’t help but feel a wild surge of relief at the sight of Master Asher, because his presence had always meant safety in the past.
His father noticed Asher at the same moment as Hayden had and said, “How did you get past the light curtain?” in a tone of cold disbelief.
Asher smirked and said, “Your son isn’t the only one you seem to have underestimated, Aleric. You’ll be unhappy to hear that I’ve brought quite a few friends with me.”
“You seem to have lost them along the way,” the Dark Prism observed flatly.
“Some are battling monsters, and some of them scattered to search the house for you.” Asher shrugged. “But I knew where you’d be, Aleric; even in madness, you’re too predictable.”
Hayden’s father scowled at that and attacked his old friend with the Black Prism, casting so many spells in rapid succession that Hayden marveled at anyone being able to look for alignments that quickly.
Asher was no novice though, and met the attacks head-on, twirling his primary and secondary prisms around in their eyepieces so fast that Hayden almost got a headache just watching it. Unfortunately, with the speed of the Dark Prism’s casting, Asher was barely able to keep up with defending himself, let alone go on the offense. Hayden saw his mentor cast shielding spells more powerful than he had ever seen before, reflecting and dispelling the attacks against him over and over again. The clash of magic as their spells collided sent scattered beams of light splitting off in all directions and occasionally toppled more furniture as shockwaves rippled through the library.
If Asher slows down for even a second, my father will have him.
Hayden forced himself out of his stupor and pulled himself to his feet, finally feeling the pain from where his father’s spells had hit him but doing his best to ignore it. He could still hear shouts and the roaring of monsters outside, as well as the sounds of magic being unleashed around the grounds. He wondered how many people had come to help fight, and sincerely prayed that his mentor had the good sense to leave Tess and Zane at school where it was safe.
Hayden looked around wildly, sifting through debris and the ruins of the library in the desperate hope that there would be a weapon he could use to help Asher fight. Preferably a prism or a wand, though he doubted he would get so lucky. More likely, he’d have to settle for a splintered table leg.
It would be nice if Asher would toss me one of his spare prisms…
Hayden didn’t dare raise his voice to ask, because if he broke the man’s concentration for even a second, he would likely die.
He seized the sharpest looking fragment of wood
he could find and tried to approach his father slowly from behind, in the hopes of passing unnoticed. Unfortunately, his father blasted Asher off of his feet with an Incendiary spell at that moment and turned in time to see Hayden approaching.
The Prism Master flew backwards and slammed into the closed doors before falling to the floor and rolling back to his feet as though unfazed by the entire ordeal.
“Hayden, RUN!” he called out as the Dark Prism turned his eyepiece to find a new alignment.
Not waiting to see what spell his father chose, Hayden threw the table leg at him and dove to the floor just as a ripple of heat passed directly overhead. More books flew off of the shelves behind him and nearly buried him once more.
“Just go!” Asher commanded, spinning his secondary circlet around to put a fresh prism in front of him. “Leave him to me!”
There was nothing Hayden wanted to do more than follow directions right now, but he knew what happened the last time Asher had fought his father alone, and he didn’t think the Dark Prism would feel terribly forgiving towards his old friend a second time.
His father’s attention was diverted again by the more immediate threat of Master Asher as he began casting, this time taking the offensive and forcing Aleric to defend himself.
We just need to hold out long enough for more help to come…Hayden thought desperately. Once the others clear out the monsters, my father will be outnumbered.
Just as Hayden began to wonder why his father hadn’t simply translocated himself to a safe location, he realized he already knew the answer. Even as the Dark Prism shielded himself against Asher’s attacks, he was moving steadily closer to Hayden, as though positioning himself for something.
He won’t leave without me. He either wants to kidnap me again or kill me, but he won’t risk me being rescued, because if I am armed, I am dangerous to him—I showed my hand when I managed to injure him.
It seemed that his father acknowledged him as a threat at last, especially after fighting him when Hayden was armed with only a single prism. Still, that didn’t bode well for his chances of survival…no wonder Asher was telling him to run away.
His father took advantage of a momentary pause in Asher’s attacks to turn to Hayden and cast some sort of squeezing spell. Hayden only knew it was a squeezing spell because in his father’s haste, his aim was off, and the upside-down armchair beside him cinched in at the middle like an hourglass and then ripped itself apart completely.
“Hayden, GO!” Asher shouted, sweat pouring down his face as he dodged attacks and switched prisms a third time. Half of the prisms in his secondary circlet had been consumed completely; he was going to have to reload soon, which would make him vulnerable to attack.
Deciding that his presence here really wasn’t helping anything, Hayden made for the door. He was only halfway across the room when he felt something slam into his back and cause him to pitch forward so hard that the air was knocked out of his lungs when he hit the ground. Coughing and gasping for breath, Hayden spit out a mouthful of blood, only then realizing that he’d cut his lip with his teeth in the fall. He also realized he couldn’t feel his legs.
A paralyzing spell! he thought furiously. He had read about this just days ago, and if he had a clear prism on him he could actually dispel it. As it was, he was forced to pull himself forward with his arms, scraping his lower half over bits of wood, glass, and the remains of hundreds of books that were in his way.
It was as he was belly-crawling towards the door that he realized Bonk and Cinder were perched side-by-side at the exit to the second floor hallway, turned towards each other and engaged in some sort of conversation that consisted of low squeaks and clicking sounds that Hayden didn’t understand.
Well, at least Bonk is alright…
Of course, it would be nice if his familiar would stir himself to bring Hayden another prism, but at least Cinder was keeping out of the fight as well so far. Hayden hoped whatever they were talking about was really important, because they were ignoring the battle completely, thoroughly engrossed in their discussion.
Bonk’s probably asking where the nearest squirrel can be found now that the light curtain is down.
“AH!” the sound of Asher crying out in pain caused Hayden to turn his head in terror. Fearing the worst, it was actually a relief to see that the Prism Master had sustained a burn to one arm that caused the skin to bubble and turn black and not something worse, though normally a necrotic burn was about as bad as things could get.
Another spell from the Black Prism sent Asher toppling backward end-over-end, slamming his head against the wall and becoming still.
Without thinking, Hayden used all the might in his arms to fling himself towards his mentor, determined to get to him before his father could kill him, even if he was only delaying the inevitable by a few seconds. His fingers bled from clawing himself forward across the wooden floor so hard, but he flung himself close enough to grab the last prism from the circlet around Asher’s head as his father approached them both.
“Asher is dead,” his father greeted him coldly, “and you haven’t a hope of defeating me in the condition you’re in.”
“Probably not,” Hayden panted, out of breath as he held onto the prism in his hand as though it was the only thing that mattered in this world, willing himself to believe that his father was wrong about the Prism Master being dead. “But I’d rather die fighting than spend another minute in your company, and I intend to take your Source and mine with me when I go.”
A moment of hesitation while sanity flashed across his father’s features, remembering why he had been trying to keep Hayden alive all this time. Knowing this was the best opening he would ever get, Hayden cast Stop at his father’s heart once again.
And once again, his father reacted in time to shield himself from the spell.
“Damn it, Hayden,” Asher muttered weakly, still lying crumpled on the floor. “I told you to get out.”
Hayden was so relieved to hear his mentor’s voice right now that he said, “Yeah, well I told you not to bother rescuing me, so I guess we’re both terrible at following directions.”
This moment of camaraderie between them seemed to infuriate the Dark Prism more than anything else that had happened so far. The insanity burned back into life behind his eyes as rage transformed his features so that he looked like an avenging demon from a scary story.
With an inarticulate sound of raw hatred, his father turned the Black Prism once more in his eyepiece, and time seemed to slow down all around Hayden as his vision suddenly sharpened. In that moment their eyes met, and without knowing how he knew, Hayden understood exactly what his father was about to do.
He isn’t going to kill me right now. He’s going to blind me.
And not just a simple Blinding spell, which was a difficult compound of violet-violet and was only temporary. His father was going to use a corrupted version through the Black Prism, which would rip away his sight for the rest of his life, burning through the foci in his eyes as well as his magical conduits, robbing him of the ability to do any magic or even to perceive light for the rest of his short, miserable life. Somehow he had brought his father from a place of wild rage straight to bitter, spiteful hatred.
Hayden didn’t even remember looking through the prism in his hand, or what alignment he was seeking, but abruptly he found himself casting in time to intercept the Blinding spell, which stopped in front of him and sheared off into brilliant arrays of light with black streaks coiled throughout. For the second time in his life, Hayden seemed to have found the spell that made magic scatter and part around him.
He felt it tug on his Source, but he was stronger and more skillful than in his second year, and it didn’t fatigue him as rapidly this time around. The prism began to fractionally shrink in his hand as the spell continued to burn through him, making him momentarily impervious to magical harm.
Hayden dispelled the paralysis from his legs and cast a simple healing spell on himself, giving
him the energy to get to his feet and face his father on equal terms. The Dark Prism cast black lightning at him, and Hayden made no effort to block it, letting the light bounce off of him and veer off at an angle, shattering the glass from one of the remaining intact windows in the room.
For the first time, his father looked worried.
“What have you done?” he asked in alarm, taking a step backwards.
“I told you, Father,” Hayden said calmly, “I’m a Frost. You should never have underestimated me.” He aimed at his father and cast Pierce, followed by Stun, Fire, and a spell that was intended to deplete the oxygen from his lungs and make him lose consciousness.
Now it was his father’s turn to be on defense, because Hayden had the upper hand. He might still be a slower caster than the Dark Prism, but for the time being, he was immune to magical attacks, so he didn’t have to worry about defending himself until the prism ran out, at which point he would be weaponless and soon-to-be murdered anyway.
His father blocked the first three spells, but the fourth caught him off-guard and he fell to his knees and gasped for breath in the moment before he was able to dispel the effects. Hayden cast a Blinding spell at him next, giving him a dose of his own medicine, but it was also blocked.
The prism in Hayden’s hand was shrinking more rapidly now, a side-effect of maintaining his invulnerability as well as channeling powerful magic. He probably only had enough time for four or five more spells before it vanished completely.
“That prism won’t last forever,” his father pointed out coolly. “Then you will be utterly at my mercy.”
And I’ve never met a more merciless man in my entire life…
A spell shot past Hayden, but not from the direction he was expecting, and it took him a moment to realize that Asher must have brought spare prisms along with him and had just reequipped his combat circlet while Hayden distracted his father.
The Dark Prism slapped the spell away in annoyance, still on his knees on the floor, and said, “I’ve told you both before: you can’t outsmart me. I always know when magic is being used against me,” in his haughtiest voice.
