When he said those words, it was like he had turned on a light switch in Durima's mind. Suddenly, she became more aware of her fists, which were bruised and bloody from all of the smashing. The cold wind nipped at the sensitive, cut-up skin of her fists and the smell of frozen metal mixed with her blood entered her nostrils.
Taking a deep breath, Durima ceased pounding away and looked at Gujak. Aside from the dent in his face from where the automaton had hit him, he looked as fine as ever, although he must have been lying prone for longer than Durima had thought because he now had a thin layer of ice covering his chest and there were little piles of snow in the nooks and crevices of his tree-like body.
“What happened?” said Gujak. He put his hands on his chest. “Were you destroying that machine because you really, honestly cared that much about me?”
The honest answer was no, but Durima was too tired to respond. She just stared at the broken machine that lay underneath her, trying to figure out what had come over herself.
It's been a long time since I last attacked anything quite like that, Durima thought. Since the Katabans War, actually.
Now it all made sense to her. Her war instincts had kicked in, or what she called 'the Demon.' It was a side of herself that she had discovered during the War, one that she rarely entered consciously or willingly. The Demon came out whenever she was under great stress. It made her violent, mindlessly so, and mercilessly cruel to whoever was unlucky enough to be the object of her wrath when she became the Demon.
It had been years since she had last became the Demon. She had done her best to avoid getting into high stress situations and had been so successful at that that she realized she must have forgotten the Demon even existed.
Gujak knew about the Demon because Durima had a reputation as the Demon leftover from the War. Still, the poor naïve fool didn't seem to grasp that he had just witnessed that side of herself take over.
He's lucky he didn't get in the way, Durima thought. Otherwise, he would have ended up looking just like this automaton, except bloodier.
Standing up, Durima held up her fists as she said, “It's not a problem. You know some healing magic, yes? Could you heal my fists for me?”
“Sure thing,” said Gujak, touching her fists with his hands. “Here we go.”
A brief flash of light emitted where Gujak's hands met Durima's fists. When the light faded, Durima's fists were whole again, although they were still covered in the blood from earlier. Sadly, she didn't have a towel to wipe with, so she wiped her fists on her fur instead.
“Thanks,” said Durima to Gujak. “That was—”
“Hold it right there, invaders,” said an obnoxiously loud voice, causing Durima and Gujak to look up in surprise. “Don't move a muscle or I, the great Junaz, will blow you both to the Heavenly Paradise!”
Standing not far from them was a human mage, a male one by the broad size of his shoulders and the deepness of his voice. He wore completely black robes that went down to his ankles, with equally black boots poking out from underneath them. He had a shock of golden brown hair peaking out from behind some kind of wooden mask that resembled a fox's face.
The mortal mage was aiming a wand at them, which was painted silver, like he was going to do exactly as he said if they did not obey his commands.
“Durima, who is that?” Gujak muttered, looking at the strangely-dressed man like he had never seen anything quite like him before.
Durima shook her head and replied, in a similarly low voice, “No idea. Never seen him before.”
“Conspiring among yourselves?” said the man who had called himself Junaz. “Cease that deceptiveness at once, you fiends. For I, the great Junaz, will shine a light on whatever darkness you are trying to hide in.”
“I think he's crazy,” said Gujak. “Definitely crazy.”
It was hard to tell Junaz's expression, but he did tilt his head to the side and say, “What language do you speak? Sounds like clicks and whistles to me.”
Of course. This Junaz—whoever he was—was a mortal, and few mortals understood the language of the katabans, although most katabans understood the human version of Divina well enough. Durima had never heard a mortal describe it that way, however.
“I suppose it doesn't matter,” said Junaz, shaking his head as the tip of his wand began to glow. “Do you two know who I am? I am the great Junaz, devoted follower of Nimiko, the God of Light, and the luminimancy teacher at this great school. In addition, my knowledge of the mechanical arts is second-to-none at North Academy and I have personally worked on the great armadas that patrol the skies of Shika.”
None of that meant anything to Durima, although she knew who Nimiko was, having done a few small tasks for him over the centuries. She doubted that would make Junaz leave them alone if she told him, however, because she was under the impression that, like most mortals, he was too stupid to understand when he wasn't wanted.
“Why is he wearing a fox mask?” Gujak asked, taking a step back as if he was afraid of the strange mortal. “Is he trying to hide something?”
Durima shrugged. “You think I'm an expert in human behavior?”
Then Junaz gestured with his wand at the destroyed automaton. “Do you know what you did? That was once Guardian, a gift from King Malock himself, which acted as one of the school's many, many defenses. It had been my job to maintain Guardian—as I said, I was once a top engineer in the Shikan air force—and now you have ruined it for no reason I can see other than it was doing its job.”
“It tried to kill us,” Durima muttered, although she didn't expect this Junaz character to understand, or if he did, to care.
“The only reason I came out here today, despite the current crisis in the Third Dorm, is because I sensed that Guardian was fighting intruders and was losing,” said Junaz. “It appears my senses were correct. As always.”
“Does he ever stop talking?” Gujak wondered. “You know, we probably could walk away very slowly and he might not notice until we're actually gone.”
For one, Durima agreed with Gujak, while Junaz was still speaking. “I don't know who you two are, or for that matter, what you two are, but I do know this: You both are clearly up to no good. I will capture you both so you may not succeed in whatever wrongdoing you are planning.”
Durima snorted. This pathetic, tiny human was going to try to bring her and Gujak in? Sure, Durima was still tired from fighting the Guardian, as Junaz called the hunk of junk she had just finished tearing apart, but she knew how squishy and fragile humans could be. That Junaz wore a fox mask, of all things, only added to her incredulity at his confidence in his ability to defeat them.
Standing up, Durima said, “Then bring it, Fox Mask. Or are you just all hot air, like most humans tend to be full of?”
Of course Junaz didn't understand a word she said, but he said anyway, “I don't know what you just said or if you said anything at all, but enough idle chitchat. Prepare to be defeated, monsters.”
Junaz did a bunch of complicated movements with his wand, almost like a swordsman slashing with his sword. He did the movements so quickly that Durima could barely follow, but she didn't need to see what he did in order to see the results.
A burst of light—brighter and hotter than any Durima had seen before—erupted from his wand. It hurtled across the Wall toward them and slammed into both Durima and Gujak before they could move.
It was like being hit with a sledgehammer. And like being hit with a sledgehammer, Durima immediately lost consciousness.
Chapter Three
Darek didn't even hesitate when he saw the Third Dorm's roof explode. While the rest of the students from both schools just stared at the column of flame and smoke in horror and shock, Darek teleported up from the sports field to the back of the Third Dorm.
He ran around the building until he reached the front door. Yanking the door open, Darek was met by clouds of black smoke pouring out of the open doorway like water bursting from a dam. Coughing and whee
zing, Darek pointed his wand at his face and created an air bubble around his head. Immediately, the smoky smell faded from his lungs and nose, allowing him to breathe again as he dashed into the Third Dorm.
There was a reason Darek had not hesitated to act. The Third Dorm was his dormitory, the place where he and his fellow dorm mates stayed. Most of his things were in there, after all, so he was determined to put out the fire and save as much of his stuff as he could.
Of course, he also wanted to make sure that no one else was in here. He doubted there was, seeing as the Magical Superior had made it clear that any students who stayed in their dorms in lieu of greeting the Institute mages would be disciplined, but he just had to be sure.
When he entered the Third Dorm itself, he had little time to think about his motivations for running into a burning building. The air was hot and oppressive, like walking into an oven, with flames licking at the walls, floor, and ceiling. A chunk of the ceiling had fallen down and crashed onto the coffee table in the center near the burning sofa. The stairs leading up to the second floor were blocked off completely by a chunk of debris from the ceiling, but it was clear based on the position of the explosion outside that the explosion had started in one of the dorm rooms on the second floor, which meant that Darek had to get up there quickly to put it out.
Keeping his head down, Darek ran over to the stairs and waved his wand. The flames parted just long enough for him to jump through them and land on the other side of the stairs. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he was off, running up the stairs to the second floor even as the heat grew worse.
Upon emerging on the second floor, Darek immediately spotted the room in which the explosion had started. He knew that it had to be the room where the explosion had started because the door had been blasted off its hinges, leaving an open doorway in which smoke and fire bellowed out.
Even worse, Darek recognized that open doorway was the doorway to his own room. That meant that the explosion had started in his and Jiku's shared room, although why or how, he didn't know.
Regardless, Darek knew he had to act right away. He ran toward the open doorway to his room and waved his wand. As he did so, a powerful gust of wind blew from nowhere, tearing through the smoke and giving him a brief glimpse of the inside of his room before the smoke returned and obscured his vision.
Don't have much time, Darek thought. Air bubble is getting thinner. Gotta get out of here before it goes away completely. Fire's too strong for me to put out on my own. I will have to let the others deal with it.
Right before he tried to leave, Darek heard the crashing of something nearby. Looking in the direction he had came, he saw that another chunk of ceiling had fallen in front of the stairs, effectively blocking off all escape routes. Not only that, but the flames had grown as well, growing far too large for him to control. They licked at the floor and what was left of the ceiling, leaving burn marks wherever they touched.
Can't escape through the stairs, Darek thought as he walked backwards, his eyes beginning to burn due to the thinness of the air bubble. Must—
“Help!” a familiar, old voice shouted. “Someone, help me! I'm stuck!”
The voice was immediately cut off by hacking and wheezing. Darek had no trouble recognizing that voice as belonging to Jiku, who based on the sounds of his shouts for help was lying somewhere in Darek's room. That made sense, seeing as Jiku and Darek were roommates as well as dorm mates, but at the same time he wondered what Jiku was doing back here in the first place.
Doesn't matter, Darek thought. I just need to rescue him before he dies. That hacking and wheezing doesn't sound good at all.
Feeling his air bubble thinning with each passing second, Darek dashed back toward the doorway to his room. The thick smoke and burning flames continued to block the entrance, but he waved his wand again, sending a powerful gust of wind that cut through both like a sword, giving him just enough time to jump through the gap and land in the room.
Panting, sweat running into his eyes, Darek looked around, scanning the place for any sign of Jiku. It was hard because the smoke was still thick in here, but then he noticed the familiar red boots of his friend poking out through the smoke.
Not saying anything—after all, talking wasted clean breathing air and he could not afford to waste even one ounce of that—Darek moved forward, ignoring the burning smoke that burned his hands. As he did so, he realized that a large chunk of the ceiling had fallen on Jiku's chest, pinning the middle-aged man to the floor.
Damn it, Darek thought. How am I supposed to move that?
He raised his wand to try to move the chunk of burning debris with telekinesis, but then without warning a flame leaped out from his own bed nearby and struck his wand hand. Instinctively cursing, despite how much air that movement wasted, Darek clutched his now burnt hand as his wand disappeared somewhere in the smoke and fire all around him.
No time to find it, Darek told himself as he moved closer to the chunk of rock on Jiku's chest. Just use your magic as best as you can without it.
Of course, it was not that easy. Darek hadn't had much experience going wand-less. He could do it, but it would be like trying to walk without shoes in the middle of a furnace.
He would have to do it. For Jiku.
Raising his hands—including the one that still burned—Darek focused on moving the damn ceiling chunk that lay on Jiku's chest. Without the wand to help him focus, it was like trying to move a boulder with his teeth. It didn't help that his air bubble was so thin now as to be practically nonexistent, and the smoke was in his eyes making it hard for him to see.
But then, much to his amazement, the ceiling chunk did in fact wobble before completely rolling off Jiku's body. Darek grimaced when he saw the burnt mark on his friend's chest and almost became depressed when he realized just how still Jiku was.
Yet Darek didn't give himself time to worry about his friend. He got down on his hands and knees, burning them against the hot floor, and grabbed Jiku's hand as the last of the air bubble gave out.
Suddenly, thick, hot, black smoke filled Darek's lungs, making him hack and wheeze as much as Jiku had earlier. Tears formed in his eyes as the smoke burned them and unless he was mistaken his robes felt like they had caught fire.
Must … get … out of here, Darek thought. Must teleport. Now.
Darek had never teleported without a wand and wasn't even sure if he could. Nonetheless, with the smoke rapidly filling his lungs and with Jiku comatose, Darek had to give it a try.
Closing his eyes, Darek focused entirely on the courtyard of the Arcanium. He thought about it with all of his heart and soul until he could practically taste the soft green grass in front of it.
Then he focused on actually being there. He focused on the place as best as he could, trying to forget everything else, trying to even forget his own burning hand and missing wand. The Magical Superior had often told him that complete focus was necessary in order to teleport in stressful situations, but Darek found that much harder to do than he thought it should be.
And then, without warning, the smoke, heat, and hard stone floor under his knees vanished, replaced with a light, cool breeze and soft grass under him.
Gasping for breath, opening his eyes, Darek saw the steps of the Arcanium before them and then looked down at Jiku. His heart failed him at the sight of his friend's appearance.
Jiku looked like he had been burnt to a crisp. His face was burned black in several places, his robes had burned holes in them, especially in the chest area, and his silver-gray hair was now blackened around the edges. He looked like the corpse of a burn victim, which was very nearly close to what he was.
Raising his hands to cast a healing spell (despite having zero experience healing burns, much less wand-less), Darek was interrupted by the sound of people running toward him. He looked over his shoulder and saw the Magical Superior, Archmage Yorak, an aquarian who might have been Yorak's assistant, Mom, and Aorja running toward him. Behind them, the s
tudents from both schools were fighting the burning Third Dorm with their magic, while the teachers supervised and helped. They seemed to be having trouble with the fire, but it didn't matter to Darek because the flames did not seem to be spreading to the other dorms.
It was the Archmage who reached Darek first, well before the other three. She pushed him aside rather roughly for a woman her age, fell to her knees at Jiku's side, and said, “How long has he been out?”
“I don't know,” said Darek, feeling annoyed. “Maybe ten minutes at most.”
“Ten minutes,” the Archmage growled. “That's not good. Listen, I know some healing spells that should hopefully take care of the worst of his wounds. Just stay back and let me cast them, okay?”
Darek bit his lower lip, but when he looked at Jiku again and saw how terrible his condition was, he nodded. Scrambling to his feet to get out of the way, Darek watched as the Archmage held her hands over Jiku's body.
The stone inside the Archmage's bracelet began to glow. Magical energy flowed from it through her hands into Jiku's body. It was a mesmerizing experience, as Darek had never seen an aquarian mage cast a spell before. It was hampered somewhat by his lungs, which were still burning from the smoke he had briefly inhaled, causing him to hack every now and then, but he would have those looked at later, after Jiku was fixed.
By the time Yorak finished healing Jiku, the others had arrived. While the Magical Superior went to inspect Jiku and Yorak's assistant helped the Archmage stand, Mom and Aorja went to check on Darek. Mom in particular fussed over his appearance and health, despite the fact that he was perfectly fine aside from his aching lungs, and he told her so.
Nonetheless, Mom being Mom, she said, “I know you are fine, Darek, but I wanted to make sure that you actually are fine. You ran into a burning building, for the gods' sake. That's not something most people can do without suffering some serious consequences, even if you used magic to protect yourself from most of them.”
The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 Page 3
