Just as Mirabel and the others were getting overwhelmed, the Zombie Cullach ceased from fighting, fell to the ground and became ash.
“The sorcerer’s dead,” Mirabel announced. “Seth, Darshun, free the King of Zithel and his people. I’m going to check on Olchemy.”
Mirabel rushed to the tower and found him lying on the floor. “Are you all right?”
His eyes were open but he looked pale, weak. “My body is numb, and it will be so for awhile. I was forced to use the Spell of Soul Separation.”
Mirabel helped him up and gently seated him in a chair, fortunately still intact. “I’m not familiar with Soul Separation.”
“Few are. It’s one of the ‘forbidden’ earth spells where you separate your body from your very own soul.” Olchemy smiled weakly. “If not done properly you could die, or worse, fall possessed to a dark spirit."
“And you attempted it?” Mirabel felt concerned…for the dark magic Olchemy vanquished was no lightweight opponent. Mirabel hadn’t felt this kind of power in a sorcerer for years. It wasn't so much Morgh's brute strength, but rather his essence of dire evil.
“I had no other choice, Mirabel.”
Staring at him for a moment, wondering if any damage had been done to his soul, he soon realized the Wizard was still himself. The truth spoke in his eyes—it’d always been so.
Then Seth, Darshun, and a tall, thin dark-haired man with cobalt blue eyes walked in.
“King Adeleric.” Mirabel nodded his head.
“Mirabel, Olchemy, it is good to see you two again,” King Adeleric greeted, his tone frail and weary. He fell to his knees. “Oh, bless you. Bless you all, I say.”
“You three know one another?” Darshun asked, looking to and fro at them.
“Yes,” Mirabel answered quietly. “It has been a long time.”
~~***~~
A few hours passed, while the Loreladian and Zithelian soldiers stood watch around the city.
The warriors gathered with King Adeleric inside his chambers. A good happening for Adeleric to be back, reclaiming his throne. There would be lots of work to be done from the aftermath of the battle, especially a massive hole blown through the tower by Morgh’s last attack. Nevertheless, he felt ever grateful for his people’s freedom.
Upon exchanging words, Darshun, even Seth, came to learn about Zithel being upon Arundel Mountain for two and a half thousand years. A peaceful but powerful people, they were monks who’d decided to live away from the general world. Away from trade, from violence…in order to be able to focus upon the joys and wonders of a simple life. Long ago, Zithel’s ancestors also befriended the Air Wizard Azarius, who lived inside the mountain, and were taught many words of wisdom by him, many proverbs of life, physical and spiritual.
One time Mirabel and Olchemy, together in search of Milandrith Metal…as Arundel Mountain was said to contain a thousand pounds of it, embedded deep in the crust, discovered Zithel and her inhabitants. At the time, Adeleric was eighteen and his father ruled as king. Despite the great power flowing from the Nasharin and Wizard—which was quickly sensed by the monks righteousness and humility also poured forth, giving the two a warm welcoming into the city. Mirabel and Olchemy greatly respected the Zithelians for their humility—especially Mirabel, because, except for the love of martial arts, their way of life reminded him of the Ackarda people. The two travelers honored their privacy. Neither ever told about their existence—until now, when the world in such grave danger.
“How long have you been held captive?” Mirabel asked.
Pausing a moment, Adeleric glanced up, nervously looking to and fro as if the danger had not yet passed. “Oh heavens, about six months ago when Asgoth attacked.”
“Asgoth?”
“Yes—Mirabel. That’s where those Cullach and the sorcerer came from. The Dark King and Queen took part in the invasion, easily slaughtering our best warriors. Once defeated, we were questioned about an ancient wizard crystal, supposedly on this mountain. I knew of the legend behind the crystals, but hadn’t a clue of their whereabouts. Sadly, they didn’t believe me—she did not believe me, the Dark Queen Talvenya, and before my eyes she cast my... ”—his voice began to crack—“my wife to stone.” Teardrops strolled down his cheeks. “I couldn’t believe it, my dear queen and childhood best friend, gone in an instant. All for nothing! I begged Talvenya to kill me also, so I might be with my wife; she would not…” he halted as he swiped his tears away.
The other men bowed their heads at such a horrid tale.
“Instead, they enslaved us to work, doing whatever they commanded, then departed, leaving the sorcerer Morgh in charge. The Cullach searched the mountain from top to bottom and amazingly discovered the Water Crystal. Though they never spoke of where they’d found it, they kept it within this tower, awaiting transport to Asgoth. A small group of Zithelian monks planned to steal it from the inside by falsely claiming to follow Asgothian Rule. They would’ve been successful, if not for a traitor selling them out, a soldier who earnestly wanted to follow Asgothian Rule. I gathered he thought it might have save his life, but he was killed anyway. Also there’s a close friend of mine by the name of Borius, the noblest of monks.”
“We know of Borius,” Seth spoke up, “He’s the one who gave me the crystal, before his untimely death.”
A look of pity crossed Adeleric’s face. “Borius knew something else too. He spoke to me about a second great war and an eternal darkness possibly coming. At first, I didn’t believe him, but Borius wasn’t one to lie, or be overtaken by legends and myths; he knew his history. However, the blasted Cullach broke up our conversation. So if possible, could one of you elaborate on this war for me?”
“Yes,” Mirabel replied, “I shall tell you everything.” He did then and finally finished after several minutes.
The king looked astonished. “So, the Prophecy of the Guardian is upon us,” King Adeleric shifted his gaze to Darshun.
“As it seems,” Darshun agreed with downcast eyes.
“Then tell me young Nasharin Guardian, if you can sense the crystals, how long before the Cullach return with the Fire Crystal?”
“I believe just prior to sunset.”
He shot up in haste. “Then by all heavens we haven’t much time. We must prepare for battle! I will not let Zithel be taken again. I will not! I will not!”
“Please, Adeleric, ease your being,” Olchemy pleaded, raising a hand while a soft breeze seemed to follow his voice.”You've been through a lot, I understand, but try to be at peace. There need not be a battle. The Cullach are returning to give the crystal to Morgh. They know nothing of his defeat. We have the element of surprise.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Disarm them and retrieve the crystal. Then let them return to Asgoth.”
“Are you mad?” he snapped, clenching a fist. “We would only enrage Tanarokai enough to send an army of ten thousand to crush us and take back the crystal. The Dark King and Queen would probably come here themselves, armed to the max. Do you even understand how powerful this dark royalty is? I do not wish to lose Zithel again, by all heavens no!"”
Adeleric did have a point. These two spell casters held a long reputation for themselves—very dangerous! Masters of sorcery they were, unmatched wherever they went. Together, they’d taken on countless warriors—experts in all, slaying them with ease. It’s been told…no mortal possessed more strength or swordsmanship than Tanarokai, and no one possessed magic as powerful as Talvenya. Rumor spread about how she was even more powerful than the king. Though, husband and wife they were not, as no holy things like matrimony exists in the realm of darkness. They were simply companions, lusting after one another’s bodies and power only. Both were said to be unnaturally old, three hundred years. In that time, Asgoth had grown, conquered, and become more powerful.
Mirabel feared this threat for a long while now, and it seemed to be finally coming to pass.
“Do not worry,” Olchemy assured him. “I will
send the Cullach away with a false message buying us time. Then I will summon the Spell of Self-Sacrifice and destroy the Fire Crystal.”
“Oh? You are going to Mt. Flame?”
“I have no intentions of that. Why Mt. Flame is the birth place of the Fire Crystal, is it not?”
“Yes, and according to the writings, it’s the only place the crystal can be destroyed.”
Olchemy heard this before but from an unreliable source. Although it sounded a bit authentic, he felt sure he could unlock the Crystal's power himself and destroy it by casting the Spell of Self-Sacrifice. Being he’d become a master of Fire, and now perfectly aligned to the Light, he’d be in the right to perform such a sacred spell. “Writings? Don't you mean according to ‘legends’?” He believed Adeleric mixed up myths with truth.
“No. According to the writings.”
“Which writings?”
King Adeleric commanded one of his men to retrieve an old history book. When the man returned Olchemy recognized the book at once from the drawings of mystical weapons and items on its cover. “The Book of Enchanted Phenomenon!” Olchemy exclaimed. “I haven’t seen this since I was—was a child!”
“Before my lovely queen passed away, she found it within the tunnels of the mountain. Though who put it there remains a mystery. Perhaps the old Air Wizard? I had it hidden before Asgoth took over the city; didn’t want to lose such a book of antiquity to their hands.”
“What is it about?” Darshun asked.
“It speaks of every magical or 'enchanted' earthen material ever to be created upon the earth,” Olchemy explained. “At least up until the time it was written. The authors were Holy Wizards, High Elves and Noble Men, and if my memory proves correct, they mention the Dark Crystal of Abaddon.”
“It speaks of six crystals,” King Adeleric went on, “The four Wizard Crystals of the Elements, the Sacred Golden Crystal of Abidan, and yes, even that wretched Dark Crystal of Abaddon. But strangely it mentions—or prophesied about another crystal or, to be literal, a ‘spherical-shaped essence of power’ that was to come. It was interpreted to be another type of magical crystal—phenomenon. Though there isn’t much written about it except a few verses saying it will be created in secrecy, by way of ‘the blackened heart,’ fused with the essence of the ‘first evil,’ and used for a forbidden spell, immortality; a life-force only the ‘golden blade’ can vanquish, with the wielder redeeming his race.”
“So elegant—and strange,” Darshun commented.
“And out of place,” Olchemy added. “In this book, every magical ‘phenomenon’ has explanation. For this mystery crystal to not have one makes me question the authenticity of those verses.”
“Many believe the verses were added to the book, while others say these are key verses to understanding a great mystery.”
“The book was never written for mysteries or puzzles to be solved.”
“Eh, who knows? Doesn’t matter.” King Adeleric flipped through the pages until reaching the section on the Wizard Crystals. “Here you go.”
Olchemy read through it, rather quickly, at least from everyone else’s point of view. “You speak the truth, Adeleric. It is specifically written in bold how the only way to destroy the Elemental Crystals is to venture to the place where each one was created. Then place them upon the altars and cast the Spell of Self Sacrifice, a spell I am well versed in, as I’ve anticipated this moment for a long, long time. Seems I will have to venture to Mt. Flame after all.”
“Where is that?” Darshun asked.
“A long distance south of Loreladia. We shall have a delay before venturing into Syngothra to destroy Abaddon's Unholy Altar.”
“I shall come with you then, right?”
“No.”
“Olchemy, it is best if someone travels with you,” Mirabel pointed out. “Being you shall lose your powers after the spell is complete.”
“What!” Darshun yelled. “Lose your—your powers, why?”
Olchemy breathed deeply. “My dear Darshun, a great win requires a great loss. These crystals are holy, majestic; and because of dark deeds committed not only by men, but all creatures that practice evil, Wizards included, making it so we have to destroy these sacred tools, comes a great sacrifice. It is part of the spell.”
“Why though? Why lose your natural abilities? Being ‘Wizard’ is what you are.”
“The Light gives and can take away. I don’t make the rules, Darshun.”
“And you’ve known this all along?”
“Indeed.”
Darshun looked saddened, and very much disappointed. “Does not seem fair."
Laughing cheerfully, Olchemy said, “I know the love you share for Wizards, but this is something that has to be done.”
“Then, I’m going with you for protection on your journey back.”
“Do not underestimate the mortal power of men. I will be fine. Besides, I am very familiar with that territory. Avis will accompany me also. She’s always willing to lend aid, and shall be the perfect companion, being how she needs little water and is strikingly more silent than myself when on the move, little thing as she is. Though, if I may borrow a horse from King Adeleric, the fastest and most equipped, this trip shall take no more than a few weeks.”
“Good heavens, of course,” the king confirmed. “Fortunately, the blasted Cullach didn't eat them all. And from now on, Zithel shall be united with Loreladia, giving whatever aid we can.” He stepped across the room and shook hands with Captain Alaric and Mythaen Theodore. “It’s just too dangerous for my people to live in secret anymore.”
“Wonderful,” Olchemy cheered. “Wonderful indeed. Darshun, until my return it would be best if you refrain from any battles. Since you are the only one who can destroy the Unholy Altar, we cannot afford to lose you.”
“I cannot do that,” Darshun protested. “If I am this ‘guardian’ you all claim me to be, then there’s no reason to hide. I’d rather venture with my father and uncle, fighting alongside them. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. And I promise you that Zithel will still be standing upon your return.”
Olchemy smiled at his courage. “A mighty guardian you will make. So be it. Let us do as planned.”
~~***~~
An hour before sunset came the rumbling sounds of the Cullach. They were marching up to the entrance of Zithel, but the gate did not open. Then, before they could speak a single word, the Loreladian soldiers sprung out of the tall grass and Zithelian archers stood up on the walls, hundreds of them.
The Cullach were surrounded and outnumbered, clueless to what was happening. The gate lowered and Olchemy, accompanied by the Nasharins, the king, and also Nayland, walked out to them. Dry crusted blood stained the porcine faces of the Cullach, weapons and gear, and a smell like death clustered around their bodies.
At this moment, Darshun remembered his first time laying eyes upon this squad, from the top of the valley, overlooking with Uncle Seth and his dear friend Elwin. He recalled the sorcerer’s words:
“Go, march to Mt. Mundoria and retrieve the crystal. Then destroy them all, down to the last man, woman and child.”
Clearly this band of heathens did just that—brought a people into extinction. Darshun wished to kill every single one of them, right then and there.
One of the Cullach wore full-plated, crimson steel armor and a helmet with bullhorns—an elite fighter and commander of the squad no doubt. He also carried a black leather sack.
Olchemy’s eyes shifted to it and then him. “Tell them to drop their weapons or every one of you will die by my command,” he said. Olchemy’s gaze was sharper than a double-edged sword.
The Cullach commander` obeyed quickly.
“Now, give me the sack you carry.”
Casting a glare, he responded, “You can have our weapons, Wizard, but the sack I must keep.”
Olchemy stretched forth his staff; the sack pulled away from the Cullach’s hand and levitated over, Olchemy gripping it from the top.
&n
bsp; Hissing, the enemy stepped forward, but Seth swung his sword, stopping the blade a mere hair to the Cullach’s throat.
He froze.
“Back up,” Seth commanded.
The Cullach submitted.
Olchemy reached in the sack and took out the Fire Crystal. Its red appearance sparkled with beauty, capturing the setting sun. Olchemy and especially Darshun could feel its power, like a hundred firestorms sweeping through.
“Magnificent,” Darshun whispered.
“That’s mine!” the commander shouted.
“This object can never belong to such a creature,” Olchemy sneered. “Now, bring this message back to your king. Tell him that I, Olchemy, am the new master of the Fire Crystal. I wield the power. If he desires his life and the life of his people, he best depart the east. Should he decline, through the power of this crystal, I will sweep destruction against him… more terrible than his Soul Crusher could bring. I will attack every fortress proclaiming his name, every Asgothian post among the east, reducing them all to smoldering ash. Tell him a new Dark is rising.” To add a bit of snarl to his howl Olchemy temporarily induced himself to an inferno, seemed to grow taller, and his eyes bathed with terrifyingly energy.
The Fire Crystal also ignited into flames, due to the power of the Wizard, though a mere effect, and not driven by the crystal itself. For Olchemy was never a Guardian, and by all rights could never truly wield its power.
However, Cullach did not know that. So the enemy recoiled, scowling, then marched off across the terrain, heading back to Asgoth.
“Do you think the Dark King will come?” King Adeleric asked, his hands shaking. For the sight of the Cullach forced fear back into his heart.
“He’ll no doubt search the region for me, but I do not think he’ll attempt to retake Zithel.” Olchemy tried to sound as confident as possible. “Least of all believe I remain here. And if he does, he’ll have to deal with Zithel, Loreladia, and three Nasharins who have yet to unleash the full extent of their wrath. And someone else whose true powers have yet to be seen,” he added, glancing at Nayland. “Do not worry—all will be well.”
Prophecy Of The Guardian (Guardian Series Book 1) Page 20
