by Steven Drake
The easy terrain of the Golden Plains meant mostly hours of steady riding. Tobin attempted to fill the silence by regaling the party with tales accumulated from his five hundred years of experience. Darien assigned some training tasks to Jerris, simple things like maintaining a tailwind for the party or maintaining a light on the point of his shortsword, easy spells intended to keep the younger half-elf’s mind focused on something, anything other than Niarie, and only partially successful.
The group could not have been more poorly matched. Most of them had good reason to distrust one another, some showed overt hostility, several had no battle experience, and one seemed useless entirely. There was no telling who would plot against whom, or whether they already were. This was not any group Darien the Executioner would have chosen for this, or any, quest. As a Shade, each member had a duty, a specialty, a function, a reason to be on the mission, and only the mission mattered. Personal conflicts, ambition, friendships, rank, and status were irrelevant, all set aside to carry out the Master’s will. The Executioner missed the feeling of those missions, the complete focus on the task, the absence of distraction, the stark efficiency. This group had none of those qualities. They would make this mission more difficult, not less. The only reason he did not simply find an opportunity to disappear into the night was Jerris. The Shade doubted his decision to allow Jerris on the mission. It would be safer for Jerris to return, yet Darien felt comfortable having at least one person he trusted implicitly. Darien felt an acute responsibility to protect his student, no matter the cost.
Chapter 20: New Challenges
The journey had brought forth a myriad of conflicting feelings in Jerris Tolmirran. He experienced the powerful excitement of a new adventure, something he had missed in Kadanar. He was surprised to be there. He had feared, in the end, that Darien would order him to return, and he would have no choice but to comply. The quest also gave him the chance to spend more time with Nia. She was beautiful, of course, but there was something else, something special about her. The young half-elf was not yet sure of his intentions towards the junior magus, but he felt drawn to her, and his stomach filled with butterflies when she talked to him, notwithstanding the cold indifference she had directed at him since Trinium.
On the other hand, the news Darien had shared tempered his enthusiasm. Becoming a demon sounded too horrifying to be real. No crime could warrant such a cruel doom, but Darien had accepted it. That proved Darien had changed. Ceres had to be wrong. Darien was not a Shade, not anymore.
The journey settled into a regular routine of riding and rest. They stayed at roadside inns on most nights, as these were common enough. Jerris tried to enjoy these comforts while he could. Though he still didn’t have a solid understanding of distances, he knew that they would eventually journey into the empty wilderness, then into the lands of the hostile dragons. There would be no roadside inns there.
When they stopped for the day, Jerris trained, not so intense as in Kadanar, but the exercises kept him sharp, and progressing. Instead of emphasizing power, concentration, and reaction, his teacher emphasized control, pressing Jerris to repeat the same spells over and over at the same level. Jerris got the feeling that all this was building toward something, but he wasn’t sure exactly what.
On one particular evening, some ten days out from Trinium, they stopped fairly early in the afternoon, on the bank of a medium-sized river, the Silian. Jerris heard something about the land beyond the river becoming rougher, but whatever the reason, they stopped early in the afternoon at an inn on the west side of the river, off by itself on the outskirts of a village whose name Jerris didn’t think terribly important.
Immediately after they arrived, Jerris’ teacher summoned him outside, and led him to a wide, fenced pasture behind the inn. Brown and white goats grazed lazily on the thick green grass, and a handful of blackbirds sat on a fence that bounded the field.
“All right Jerris.” Darien seemed serious today. Perhaps this was going to be an important lesson. They had all afternoon. “This mission will be growing more dangerous, and I want to be sure you are as prepared as possible. Your elemental magic is strong now, strong enough to fell most enemies. To be honest, strong enough that further practice will yield only limited results. Your control has improved enough I think it time to begin with augmentation. That will enable you to move faster, increase your strength, your vision, and your agility. In actual combat, it will enable you to fight opponents well beyond you in strength and speed.”
“Um, you think we’ll encounter some?” Jerris asked uneasily.
“You do remember where we’re going.” Darien sighed and rubbed his temples. “Even the strongest men and elves can’t match strength with a dragon, or an ogre, or even most trolls, and yes, we are likely to encounter some.”
“Alright, so what do I do, then?”
“Well, before we begin, a word of caution. You have impressive levels of magical energy, and while that makes some magic easier, it makes augmentation difficult. You are channeling magic into your own muscles and bones, to push them beyond their ordinary limits. Push them too far, and they break. For you, it will require a fraction of what you use for elemental spells. Do not overdo it.”
“So, I just change the focus to be inside me?”
“Yes, but also shape it carefully, think of the way it feels when you flex a muscle. Focus your energy on that feeling, and every movement will be magnified in power. Start by focusing on one muscle at once, for example, those in your legs. Watch.” Jerris watched, and saw what looked like a faint white light, like a wisp of cloud running up and down his teacher’s leg. Then the light brightened, a blazing filament of power. Darien slammed a foot into the grassy ground, leaving an impression perhaps six inches deep in the ground. Then with a second flash of magic, Darien leapt over Jerris’ head and circled the field. The magic seemed to pulse on and off in time with Darien’s steps, a graceful, effortless, coordination between physical body and magical energy, minimal exertion, just the tiniest sliver of magic compared to what Darien used for his elemental spells. I’ll have to be careful not to overdo it, Jerris reminded himself. “Alright, now, you may as well try it yourself. With your ability, I expect something will happen at least.”
“Something will happen.” Jerris gulped. “That’s um… a little ominous.”
“If it makes you feel better, this is much safer than what you did to Ceres. That can cause some… unpleasant accidents, though the damage is usually reversible.”
“Usually?” He hadn’t realized that he’d been taking such a risk.
“Well, don’t worry about that now.” Darien rolled his eyes as he spoke. “Usually that type of domination takes years to master, but magic is often unpredictable. It develops differently for different mages. You just happen to have a natural talent for domination. Now, stop worrying and focus on what you are trying to do now.”
Jerris nodded, then carefully pulled his magic into the muscles of his legs, focusing on that sensation of flexing his legs. The first step he took launched him forwards into the ground at a frightening rate, where he tumbled and skidded to a stop over several yards.
“Too much,” Darien said flatly.
Jerris refocused, and tried again, this time he launched himself twenty feet into the air. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to summon a gust of wind to slow his fall to a less lethal speed. He crashed roughly into the ground, landing on his right side. That will be sore tomorrow .
“Well done.” Darien smiled blithely. “You reacted quickly and managed to avoid injuring yourself with your own spell. Just run normally then add the magic. Don’t try to focus so much all at once.”
Jerris rubbed his back and tried again, with a result similar to the first attempt. He muttered curses and tried again. After perhaps an hour of falling continuously and acquiring new bruises, Jerris managed to take a few strides before falling over. He spent the next hour trying to establish a rhythm, staying up for somewhere between a few
strides and a few yards.
Then, on what must have been well over the two hundredth attempt, Jerris actually found a rhythm, and kept it going long enough that he had to turn to avoid hitting the wooden fence. After narrowly missing striking the fence, he exalted in the achievement, and sped out to the edge of the fenced pasture. When he turned back toward the inn, however, he suddenly noticed the light golden hair and feminine figure of Niarie, who had apparently come out to watch. He smiled at her, and started to stop, but lost his concentration, and suddenly realized he was going much too fast to stop. An instant later, he tripped, and tumbled to the ground, rolling over and spinning several times before coming to rest a few feet in front of his teacher and the young woman he had been hoping to impress. At least his head had landed on something soft.
He grumbled a curse about embarrassing himself in front of Nia, and started to right himself. It took a few moments to overcome the disorientation and gain his feet. He shook his head to get rid of the lingering cobwebs. That’s when he noticed the smell. He could not figure out where it was coming from, but he noticed Niarie snickering at him. Darien also had broken out in a wide grin, barely containing his laughter. Then it hit him. Oh no, not in front of her. This can’t be happening. I’ve never seen a more beautiful girl in my life and I try to impress her, but instead I end up standing here with my head covered in some animal’s dung. Unbelievable. Damn the luck.
“Well, ahem, Jerris,” Darien broke the silence, obviously struggling not to laugh. “That was an admirable attempt. You must remember, however, that when moving much faster than normal, you have to maintain your focus when you stop. In fact, to stop quickly, you want to slightly increase your focus, because it always requires slightly more force to stop than to keep going. Now…*ahem*, you might want to go wash up before continuing.”
“Actually, I can take care of it,” Niarie jovially interrupted. What is she thinking, Jerris wondered? Does she really want to help me wash up? His muscles tensed with excitement at the prospect of actual physical contact. Disappointment struck, however, as Niarie motioned him over to the water trough. She then raised the water out of the trough, spun it into a whirling disc of water, and maneuvered the disc next to Jerris.
“Put your head in,” she ordered with a girlish giggle.
He did so, and for the next few minutes, Niarie maneuvered the whirling disc up and down his face until he was, for the most part, clean again, though also soaking wet, then returned the water to the trough.
“Impressive,” Darien commented. “Getting water into a ring shape isn’t easy. You’ve obviously practiced this.”
“Grandfather has been teaching me magic since I was ten. He’s really an excellent mage.” She smiled at Jerris’ teacher, a smile that immediately roused an uncomfortable feeling of jealousy in the pit of the younger half-elf’s stomach. “I saw you out here and I thought you might be practicing. I saw your fight with Geoffray. I think it was really respectful of you not to hurt him any worse than you did. Grandfather said you were toying with him, that you could have killed him at any time. You’re really amazing. I’ve never seen anyone that could do it all so effortlessly, and that sword. It’s an aetherblade isn’t it? Grandfather taught me about them. He said he had seen descriptions in the old books. I… um… I have to ask, can I see your shadow void? There’s only nine mages in the world known to be able to produce them? How large can you make one?”
“Hold on, hold on,” Darien interrupted, rubbing his temples. “I’m losing track of all these questions. To the first, yes, I probably could have beaten Geoffray at any time. That was not the point. Second, yes, it’s an aetherblade, but it’s not a real one. It’s a copy made by an elf named Galen. Third, I don’t really want to cast a shadow void here in case someone from the inn comes out here. We don’t need people getting suspicious.” Darien suddenly got a thoughtful look on his face as if something had occurred to him. “And how do you know there are nine mages that can produce shadow voids? Do you know their names?”
“Of course,” Niarie smiled proudly. “There’s you. There’s the Demon King, of course. Then there’s Kendra the Twilight, the only woman known to be able to do it. Then there’s the Black Council, Zanzi the Mad, Thalazane the Bloodstorm, Malik the Reaper, Kane the Inferno, and Alistair the Abyss.”
“That’s only eight,” Darien said. “Who’s the ninth? The Demon King must have trained someone new since I left.”
“Oh, well you didn’t let me finish,” Niarie snickered. “It’s not any of the Shades. It’s my Grandfather.”
“Really!” Darien exclaimed, somewhat more excited than Jerris was used to, or comfortable with. Really, he wished Niarie and Darien weren’t getting along quite so well. “I’ve never heard of anyone west of the Saldean mastering that. I hope I get a chance to speak with him about that. The shadow void requires… a special kind of concentration, one usually only obtainable after years of strict training. I’m curious how he managed it.”
“Well, when we get back, you can ask him.” Niarie added, “I’m sure his aren’t anywhere near yours though.”
“Even a tiny one is several times more destructive than a comparable spell of similar physical size, though they take considerably more energy to produce. It’s a rare talent.” Darien shook his head. “Well, this has been interesting, but Jerris isn’t learning anything standing there listening to us.”
“Oh, I, uh, didn’t realize you were teaching. He hasn’t been training that long, has he?” she said, pointing at the young half-elf. Jerris blanched, but tried his best not to show it. She couldn’t have hit him any harder had if she had used an iron mace.
“A little over a year,” Darien answered. “But he’s quite talented. You remember a few days ago, when Ceres so eloquently explained how water runs uphill instead of down in her homeland, yes?”
“I thought that was strange,” Niarie remarked. “Is it true?”
“Of course it isn’t.” Darien shook his head dismissively. “Don’t be foolish. Ceres asked me to teach her to resist domination magic, but I find it taxing to use on a daily basis, so I had Jerris do it instead. He has an exceptional talent for domination magic. I must admit, he’s creative with his suggestions if not very practical.”
“Really, him, after only a year?” Niarie gasped as she stared over at the still dripping wet young man, and he smiled weakly as he suddenly decided to examine the grass beneath his feet more closely. “So, Jerris can really… give her commands, make her do what he wants?” Jerris finally managed to divert his attention from the grass and noticed the young woman looking at him quite differently than she had before. The feeling of jealousy that had gripped him melted away as he realized what the wily Shade had done for him. Niarie continued to speak, “That’s incredible… Um… Well… I suppose it’s because you’re both half-elves. Right, well, I’ll be sure to be nice to Jerris then. I don’t want to end up thinking I’m a cave troll… or something.”
“Jerris was just practicing augmentation magic for the first time.”
“Really? I can do a little, but not very much… I’m, um, not that coordinated. Um… Is it OK if I watch?”
“I don’t see a problem, unless Jerris finds your presence distracting.” Darien looked accusingly over at his student.
“No, it’s fine.” Jerris quickly replied. “She’s welcome to watch me if she wants.” He smiled at Nia while Darien rolled his eyes again. He would never approve of this relationship, perhaps any relationship. Jerris caught himself wondering, if Darien asked me to stay away from her, would I be able to do it? I hope it never comes to that.
Chapter 21: A Duel
The ale at this particular inn was strong and bitter. It burned Rana’s throat going down, but cooled her frustrations. She seldom resorted to alcohol for comfort, but this journey had already become a more difficult test that she had imagined. What am I doing here? No one wants me along, not the elves, not the Golden Shield, not Geoffray, and certainly not Darien. They h
ate each other, and I’m just caught between. Neither of them has said three words to me. By the Seven, how did I end up here?
“You don’t look too well. Why do you keep following after him?” Rana looked over to see Tobin, the old dwarf, sitting next to her.
“Who said I was following him?”
Tobin chuckled and raised his bushy eyebrows. Warm brown eyes peered out from underneath. “Hehe, well you may not remember me, but I remember you. You showed up at my shop in Vorog, asking about Darien, and now I find you tagging along after him. Just why do you follow him?”
“He hasn’t told you?”
“Darien never says more than he has to. Shades are all like that, taught to be that way. It’s not natural, but once they learn it, they don’t forget it, and they don’t tend to like personal questions. I’ve learned not to pry.”
“Well, it’s a long story, if you want to hear it.” Tobin smiled and ordered two more ales. Rana spent the next hour or so explaining her story from the destruction of her homeland, to her training at the Golden Shield, to her attempt on Darien’s life, the journey to Kadanar, and up to the present leaving out only her complicated feelings toward Darien. Tobin nodded and drank, enjoying the tale.
When Rana had finished, Tobin quietly tapped the rim of his glass. “So why do you keep following him? You’ve known him a while. You don’t really think he’ll let his guard down, do you?”
