Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

by Thompson, J. J.

  Simon stared at the destruction and then turned to look at Aeris.

  “Is that what normally happens when a dragon dies?” he asked as he pointed a shaking finger at the broken wall.

  Aeris flew up and regarded the damage. Then he shrugged.

  “I have no idea, my dear wizard. As I've told you before, the dragons had been exiled long before I was summoned by the ancient wizards. I don't recall anyone mentioning them disintegrating when they died but, with all that internal heat, it's not that surprising.”

  “Yeah? Maybe not to you.”

  Simon leaned the staff against the parapet, wiped the blood from his palm on to his robe and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “I think that was even scarier than facing the black,” he said as he dabbed a film of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Even in the bitter cold, he was soaked with it.

  “Closer to home,” Aeris said wisely. “And speaking of home, you'd better get back inside before you catch a chill. You aren't as hearty as you were back in the old days.”

  “Thanks Mom,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes. He grabbed the staff and then lifted the heavy trapdoor just enough to slip inside.

  Aeris flew by as he let it slam shut.

  “Could you lock the door, please?” he asked the elemental. “I'm going to tell Kronk about what's happened and see if he and his friends can repair the wall while they're still here.”

  “Ah, excellent idea. Go ahead down then. I'll be there in a minute.”

  Simon nodded and walked carefully down the steep stairs. His knees were still wobbly from the fight and he didn't want to trip and break his neck.

  Chapter 2

  The earth elementals were quite happy to have helped brace the tower against the dragons' attack and equally thrilled to repair the damaged wall. Once they had cheerfully gone outside to start working, Simon set his kettle over the fire in the fireplace to boil, made some tea and collapsed on to a kitchen chair.

  Aeris popped into sight and flew across the room to stare at him closely. He raised an eyebrow.

  “How are you doing, my dear wizard?” he asked curiously.

  Simon closed his eyes tiredly.

  “I'm beat, to be honest. Suddenly being attacked in the middle of winter will do that to you, I guess. I've been sitting here trying to figure out if you were right, about the gods of Chaos taking revenge on me personally.”

  He opened his eyes and looked anxiously at the elemental.

  “It's a disturbing thought, having these 'gods' knowing about me. If it's true, then the question is, what's next?”

  Aeris nodded, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

  “Yes, I agree that it is troubling. I think perhaps you should ask for some advice from someone closer to the source than myself.”

  “Someone closer to...” Simon's eye's widened. “Clara? Of course. Why didn't I think of that?”

  The little misty figure chuckled, not unkindly.

  “You've been a bit distracted. But a cleric might have some insights that a wizard would not.”

  Simon dug into a pocket of his robe and pulled out a rounded piece of stone, gray in color, with small sparkles of crystal glinting in the candlelight.

  “She hasn't used the lodestone to get my attention for a while, so I suppose things are fine at her village, but...”

  He almost dropped the stone as it suddenly vibrated in his hand, glowing with a ghostly pale light.

  “Apparently great minds think alike,” Aeris commented dryly.

  “Hmm, maybe.”

  Simon put the stone back in his pocket, easily thought of the incantation for Magic Mouth and cast the spell.

  “Clara? Are you there?” he asked aloud as he stared vaguely across the room. He took a sip of tea as he waited for her reply.

  “Simon? Oh, thank the gods you're okay,” he heard the cleric say.

  He frowned at her worried tone.

  “Sure, I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?”

  “Because I had a vision, just a few moments ago. The gods of Justice warned me that you would be punished for your destruction of the black dragon by the dark gods. I'm actually surprised that it took them two months to react to its death. Apparently it takes some time for news like that to reach them in the Void.”

  “Just as well,” Simon muttered. “Anyway, your news is a bit late, Clara. We were attacked earlier today.”

  “Attacked?” She sounded surprised. “But that's not...what attacked you?”

  “A pair of dragons, believe it or not.”

  Simon told the cleric about the assault and, when he was done, she sounded both relieved and confused.

  “I'm happy that you and your two companions are safe, my friend, but I'm a little mystified. The warning from the gods didn't mention an attack. It sounds rather petty, doesn't it?”

  Simon flicked a glance at Aeris, who was listening to the one-sided conversation with interest.

  “Yes, it does. But Aeris has mentioned before that these dark gods are like that; petty, vengeful, almost child-like in their responses.”

  “They are indeed. But don't let that lull you into letting your guard down, Simon. They are still ancient and powerful.”

  “I won't, believe me. So, if you weren't warned of the attack, what did those gods of Justice say their opponents would do?”

  Clara sounded a little amused.

  “They are never that specific, my friend. All of these visions are couched in allegory and symbolism. But what I took out of it was that their vengeance would be more personal. The dragon attack seems so, I don't know, random maybe.”

  Simon had to laugh.

  “Well, it sure seemed personal to me! Anyway, meaning no offense but maybe you misunderstood the vision? Like you said, allegory can be misinterpreted, right?”

  “Yes, of course it can.” She sighed. “You're probably right. I hope you are. So, putting that aside for the moment, how are you, Aeris and Kronk doing this winter? Anything you need in the way of supplies or whatever?”

  Simon sipped his tea and smiled.

  “We're good, thanks. Kronk and Aeris can almost complete an entire conversation now without fighting.”

  “Hey, wait a second!” Aeris cut in. “We're quite civil with each other now.”

  “That's what I just said,” Simon told him with a grin.

  The elemental snorted in disgust but didn't respond.

  “They didn't agree?” Clara asked, sounding amused. She could only hear Simon when he spoke using the Magic Mouth spell and he could only hear her.

  “Something like that. At any rate, we're fine. I have enough supplies down in the cellar to last the winter and then some. I hope you and your people are doing as well?”

  Clara began to speak but her voice started to fade in and out suddenly, as if he was listening to a radio signal that was beginning to lose its strength.

  “I'm sorry, Clara, could you repeat that?” he asked, confused. He had never experienced a 'signal loss' using Magic Mouth before.

  “Simon? I can barely hear you. What's going...”

  Her voice faded out again.

  “Clara? Clara, can you hear me?” he asked loudly. There was no response.

  “Well, that's weird,” Simon said to Aeris.

  “What's weird?”

  “The Magic Mouth spell. It just sort of...lost power. I didn't know that could happen.”

  A loud clunk made the wizard look across the room, just in time to see Kronk push the door closed behind him, jump up and slide the bolt into place.

  “Didn't know what could happen, master?” he asked as he tip-tapped over to the table and jumped up to stand next to Aeris. “Oh and the wall has been repaired. My friends went back to the earthen realm with my thanks.”

  “Good. That's good, Kronk. Thank you.”

  Simon finished his tea and got up to make some more.

  “I was just saying to Aeris that the Magic Mouth spell I was using to talk to Clara just
faded out. Have either of you ever heard of a spell doing that?”

  The two elementals exchanged looks and both shook their heads.

  “Not me,” Aeris said firmly. “Spells don't fade unless the caster is destroyed. Once their power is removed from the world, any spells they've cast disappear over time.”

  “Really?” Simon made his second cup of tea and sat down again. “That's interesting. I didn't realize that could happen.”

  Kronk remained silent and Aeris shrugged.

  “The power flows through the wizard,” he said. “Take away that conduit and...”

  The air elemental stopped speaking and frowned. An almost identical expression crossed Kronk's face.

  Simon looked at them.

  “What's wrong?” he asked.

  “I'm not sure,” Aeris said in confusion. “I feel...strange. It's like...”

  His eyes widened in sudden fear and he reached out toward the wizard.

  “Simon!” he cried out and abruptly faded away.

  The wizard leaped to his feet, staring at Kronk.

  “What happened?” he asked frantically.

  Kronk stared at the spot where Aeris had been hovering a moment before.

  “I don't know, master. Something feels wrong. I..."

  The little guy froze in place for a moment and then looked up at Simon with an expression of anguish.

  “Master!” he called and then he was gone.

  “What the hell is going on!” Simon roared as he looked around the room frantically.

  He was alone.

  It's an attack of some kind, he thought to himself. This must be what Clara warned me about. The elementals must have been returned to their own realms. Simon refused to believe that they had been destroyed.

  He knew that once a wizard had summoned an elemental, all he needed to do to call them back was to say their name. So he backed away from the kitchen table, stared at the place he wanted his friends to return to and spoke loudly and firmly.

  “Kronk, I need you.”

  A minute passed but nothing happened.

  “Kronk! Return to me. Now!”

  Nothing.

  “Aeris? Can you come home please?” he asked plaintively.

  It wasn't working.

  The summoning spell. All I need is the summoning spell to get them back, he thought, feeling the first touch of panic.

  He went through the list of spells in his mind, or at least he tried to. But there was nothing there. It was like reaching for a memory that was simply not there anymore.

  Just like when he'd first begun using magic; his mind was a blank slate. Back then, before the gods of Justice had given him the knowledge of every spell a high-level wizard knew, he had to memorize each spell first before he cast it, and then it would fade from his mind again.

  Simon walked back to his chair and sat down abruptly, thinking it through.

  Was that it? Had the evil gods erased the spells from his mind? That thought worried him but a second thought close on its heels chilled him to the bone.

  Or had they cut off his access to magic entirely?

  How to test it? Maybe if I use Bene-Dunn-Gal, it can boost my power.

  Simon looked across the room to where the staff leaned against the wall next to the door.

  He stood up and quickly walked to the staff. He picked it up and knew at once that something was wrong.

  Sheathed in bronze and made of heavy wood, the staff had always felt as light as a feather in his hand. Now he had to pick it up with both hands just to hold it upright.

  He held up the staff with a grunt of effort, but his mind remained blank. The staff was just an inert length of wood and metal.

  Simon put Bene-Dunn-Gal back in its place. His stomach was clenched with fear but he would not allow himself to panic.

  I need to memorize a spell to see if the magic is still there, he thought. But he was reluctant to try. Without his power, he was, he thought, basically useless. The only reason he no longer missed being the big strong man he'd once been before his Change was because magic made him so much more powerful.

  But now? He was a skinny, weak teenager who probably couldn't even defend himself against a grown man.

  Come on, Simon, he thought. You have to know, one way or the other.

  He nodded to himself and walked hurriedly to the stairs.

  On the second floor, he went into his study and opened the shutters to let in the bright, cold afternoon light. Then he sat at his desk and picked up his spell-book.

  Well, he thought with a trace of grim amusement, I never thought I'd need you again.

  The dog-eared bundle of pages had been fastened together with thick cord and Simon carefully turned each page, looking at the symbols and runes that he had written down each time he'd discovered a spell that actually worked.

  He was tempted to try the Summoning spell at once, but common sense stopped him.

  Try the easiest, least complicated one you have, he thought. The one that uses the least amount of power.

  He turned back to the front of the book and looked at the first few pages. He stared at the simple spell he'd called Sparkle. All it did was create small sparks that were basically useless.

  Except when you used it to get the black dragon's attention, he thought with some satisfaction. But then he'd had Bene-Dunn-Gal to boost his power. Now? Now it was the most useless and least powerful spell he had.

  Taking a deep breath, Simon read through the runes that comprised the spell, firmly locking them into his mind.

  “Okay,” he said aloud. “Let's see how bad the situation really is.”

  He chanted the incantation in a firm voice, with only a hint of a nervous quiver, and then intoned the word of command.

  “Invectis,” he said. And then waited.

  After a minute he sat back in the leather chair, the springs squealing almost in sympathy.

  “I'm screwed,” he muttered.

  Nothing had happened. No sparks. No reaction of any kind.

  He was powerless.

  Simon sat in his chair and stared out at the bright afternoon. His mind was a jumble of disconnected thoughts. What do I do now, was the most prevalent one.

  Finally he stood up, creaking like an old man as his joints had stiffened while he sat, closed the shutters and bolted them.

  The room darkened immediately and he glanced at a candle, willing it to light thoughtlessly.

  Nothing happened and he sighed in frustration.

  No power, Simon, remember? He shrugged and wandered back downstairs to the fireplace. If he couldn't light things with his mind anymore, he'd better make sure that the fire was maintained. It got awfully cold in the tower when it went out.

  He arranged fresh logs carefully in the fireplace, lit several candles to brighten the room and made more tea. Then he sat down to try and organize his thoughts.

  The gods of Chaos had failed in their attempt to kill him using the dragons. But they had succeeded in rendering him powerless. And in this increasingly dangerous world, the result might well be the same.

  Monsters of old were returning to the New Earth. Undead now stalked the night near graveyards, seeking the warmth of the living. And many animals, like some humans, had Changed into something...else. Some were benevolent, like his horses, but others were not.

  Simon sat up with a jerk. The horses!

  He'd been so used to having Kronk around to care for Chief, Tammy and Sunshine, his three horses, that he'd forgotten all about them. They must have been freaking out when the dragons attacked and that was an hour ago or more now.

  He got up and went to a large cupboard next to his cast-iron stove and pulled out his long winter jacket. It was thick and lined with fur and covered him almost to his ankles. It also had a hood to block the cold. Simon hated cold ears.

  He slipped off his simple shoes and put on boots and then headed out into the bitter cold.

  The stable was attached to the back of the tower, on the lake si
de, and was large enough to house a half-dozen horses. To one side was a storage shed, made of stone like the stable and tower, stuffed with hay laid up for the winter.

  Simon bustled into the stable, the powerful smell of horse manure assaulting his nostrils.

  The three horses nickered as he entered, their heads hanging over the doors of their box stalls. Simon went to each one in turn and patted and stroked them reassuringly. They didn't seem the worse for wear and looked relaxed.

  It had been a while since he'd had to muck out the stalls, but since Kronk was gone, temporarily he thought quickly, Simon took off his jacket, grabbed a shovel and bucket and got to work.

  When he was done and had dumped the manure on the pile next to the stable, he pumped out fresh water for the three horses, made sure they had enough hay for the night and chatted away to all of them in turn.

  Each had Changed since the old Earth days, but Chief was the most striking. His hooves had split and now sported claws, his mane and tail were spikes instead of hair and two horns, one over each eye, sprouted from his forehead. He was an image out of a fairy tale.

  Still a big goof though, Simon thought with amusement as the stallion craned his head up for the wizard to scratch under his chin.

  “You're a big suck, you know that?” he asked Chief with a grin. The stallion just snorted and shoved him lightly with his head, being careful not to impale Simon on his horns.

  “I'm sorry to tell you guys, but Kronk's going to be gone for a while,” he told them seriously. He wasn't quite sure how intelligent the Change had made them, but he did know that they were much smarter than they'd been in the old days.

  All three sets of large brown eyes watched him silently.

  “He's been...” He hesitated and then hurried on. “Called away, I guess. But don't worry. I'm sure he'll be home soon.”

  Simon felt tears rise in his eyes and blinked them away, feeling foolish.

  “Yeah, he'll be home soon. For sure,” he muttered.

  Then he grabbed his coat, waved at the horses and headed out into the cold.

  The sun was dipping toward the horizon as Simon walked back around the tower. He paused to examine the wall where the dragon had fallen. Kronk and the other earthen had repaired it perfectly and, if it wasn't for the shining puddles of frozen water where the snow had melted, he'd never have known there'd been any damage at all.