The Sorcerer's Destiny (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Deskins, Brock

  “I…don’t know.”

  Azerick closed his eyes and sent his consciousness outward. He found the violent thoughts of a succubus and tried to speak to her mind. It did not appear he was getting through so he “shouted”. The demon halted its attack on a dragon and broke away from her sisters swarming the furious serpent.

  “You!” she sent back.

  “Yes, me. I need you to command the demons for me.”

  “You are no longer our master. We need not obey you.”

  “I am the Hand of Sharrellan and her Chosen one to act in this war. You will obey me or suffer both our wrath.”

  The succubus formed several vile thoughts but acquiesced. “What would you command us to do?”

  “I have a dragon friend who carries powerful objects capable of destroying the gates through which the Scions are using to replace their fallen.” Azerick sent an image of Sandy to the demon’s mind. “Help her reach the gates. It is crucial in order to win this war and fulfill the wishes of our goddess.”

  “Our goddess?” the demon chuckled. “Send your dragon. We will get her there.”

  “Raijaun, contact Sandy and tell her to make for the gates. The demons will clear a path.”

  Raijaun nodded and reached out to Sandy much like Azerick had done with the demon. His blood contained only a diluted amount of dragon essence, and mind-linking was a challenge that allowed only a limited form of communication.

  “She understands, Father.”

  Sandy heard Raijaun’s muddy sending and circled back toward the ravager lines once more. She had been trying to reach the gates for the better part of the day, and she was exhausted. Demons thronged the battlefield and dotted the skies. Their numbers were not as great as the ravagers, but their fearlessness and ferociousness shifted the press of the attack back onto the Scion legions.

  Succubae hurled balls of fire and stabbed at the eyes and softer parts of the dragons’ anatomy in concert with the bat-like grackin. Neither demon could match the speed of a dragon, but the sky was thick with them, and the demons latched onto their scales like ticks, drawing blood and wounding them with magic, claws, and blades.

  Sandy picked an opening between the dozens of aerial battles and summoned a wind to speed her through. A few dragons spotted her and tried to ignore the parasitical demons stinging them like swarms of bees. She clutched the four arcanum spheres Azerick had brought back from his tower earlier that day tightly in her forepaws. It would not do to drop them where they would be instantly and irretrievably lost in the swarming mass below her.

  She urged her runes to ward her body from the pursuing dragons’ unwavering attacks, but she was tired and unable to shield herself from the assaults in their entirety. Fire, lightning, and magic ruined several patched of scales and blistered her flesh. Sandy now understood why Azerick had etched so many redundant runes all over her body. Her scales would grow back along with the sigils decorating them, but for now they were all she had.

  Sandy conjured fierce winds and choking dust storms in her wake to hamper the dragons’ pursuit. The powerful gales collided and created miniature tornados, sucking in and flinging away any dragon failing to avoid them. Through the haze of her black blizzard, Sandy spied the first gate and spotted two others a moment later.

  The dragons became more numerous as she approached, but swarms of winged demons dropped from the sky and savagely attacked to distract them long enough for Sandy to deliver her gifts. Sandy considered her speed, altitude, and the weight of the orbs to plot the trajectory. A hundred yards from the nearest gate, she let one of the arcanum spheres slip from her grasp. The orb fell as a silver streak to anyone watching from the ground and landed in some brush some fifty feet away. Sandy was disappointed in her aim but was not concerned. Azerick had told her the explosion would be powerful enough that it only needed to be close. Still, she thought herself as something of a perfectionist and it bothered her.

  Using what she learned from what she considered a practice shot, the next sphere came to a stop an arm’s length from one of the gate pillars and a third butted right up against the other. Sandy increased her altitude and searched the area for another gate. She decided that if there was one, she was not going to be able to find it as the dragons began winning their battle with the demons and directed their attacks toward her. Sandy sprinted for the safety of the human lines, dropping the fourth arcanum bomb in the midst of the ravager legion on her way past.

  “Raijaun, it is done. Do it now!”

  Raijaun relayed the news to Azerick. “Now, Father.”

  In Azerick’s open palm lay four coins made of pure arcanum with a single rune perfectly etched upon their face. The sorcerer fed magical power into each of the coins. Identical runes on the sphere’s Sandy dropped glowed for a brief second before they exploded with the force of a powerful meteor strike. Yet more cataclysmic power scarred their world deep enough to leave a reminder of what happened in this valley for hundreds, possibly thousands, of years.

  Azerick turned to King Miles. “It is done. The gates are destroyed.”

  “Praise be, we may have a chance,” the young King said with a heavy sigh of relief. “What happens next?”

  “We continue to fight until the Scions are forced to face us themselves. It should not be long now. Our gods have landed the first blow, and the Scions will feel the need to retaliate. Opening the abyss to help destroy the ravager horde may have saved us, but it is an invitation and open declaration that it is time for all the gods to take the field.”

  Witnessing the teaming throngs of ravagers had filled Miles with the greatest fear he thought imaginable, but the prospect of soon facing angry, vengeful gods raised it to stark terror. Only his discipline and knowing he had to stand strong despite his fear kept him from breaking down and weeping like a babe.

  CHAPTER 24

  The banished gods watched the destruction of their gates with mild annoyance. It was not an unexpected setback, but the mortals’ audacity piqued their ire nonetheless.

  “The usurpers have thrown the gauntlet,” said Xar, first amongst the five gods.

  Doaz replied, “I believe it is time for us to pick it up.”

  “Agreed,” the remaining three concurred.

  The majestic crystalline fortress left the grey space between worlds and shimmered into view above the battlefield like a shining star hovering just a few hundred feet over the land. Hundreds of thousands of eyes could not resist gazing upon the magnificent sight. The distraction cost many of them their lives. The brilliant intensity increased to blinding just before a searing beam lanced out from the crown of its center spire. The beam washed over the foremost ranks of mortals, searing thousands of them to less than ash in seconds.

  The fortress dimmed and glided silently forward, its crystal walls shimmering and flickering as it gathered the energy for another devastating strike. The rhythmic strobing reached its crescendo. The instant before it struck another mortal blow, four massive runes carved into the valley burst to life, sending their own dazzling rays skyward. The beams did not strike the fortress, but came to a peak high in the sky, surrounding it within a colossal prism. A ray of light lanced through the clouds from the apex of the pyramid to seemingly stab at the heavens. The Scions’ bastion seemed to shake and quiver as it tried to break free of the trap.

  Daebian stood on the deck of his flagship and watched the spectacular scene unfold while stroking the soul stone with a grin plastered on his face. He knew what his father was trying to do, just as he knew it was destined to fail.

  “Gloom, go find Father.”

  The crow dropped over the rail of the ship and sped across the battlefield. The moment he had been expecting came as the world around him froze. The deafening sounds of battle ceased and the wind stopped blowing. Even the stench of fire and death vanished as Zyn appeared before him. Much like the Scions and their citadel had resided between worlds, Zyn preferred to speak with his favored pet in the tiny spaces between time as it allo
wed him to appear within the world of mortals without the chaotic distractions.

  “It is time to fulfill your primary purpose. Your father and brother have created something of a nuisance. We could break free of their pathetic trap if we desired but do not wish to expend the energy. Let them think it is working and exhaust themselves as they try to hold us in stasis. It also provides the perfect distraction for you to successfully carry out your assassinations.”

  “Your wish is my command, master, but I need my bird.”

  “My command is your command. I request nothing.”

  “Please forgive my turn of phrase, master. Also, please forgive my presumption, but I would beg another token for going beyond our agreement by killing my brother as well.”

  Zyn was taken aback. Not by the audacity of his slave asking to be rewarded beyond being allowed to exist, but for the fact he could not ascertain what the unusual creature wanted. This sudden lack of omniscience threw the Scion off-balance.

  “What is it you desire?”

  Daebian caressed the soul stone and turned his eyes toward the gods’ fortress. “How strange you don’t already know.”

  ***

  Daebian stepped out of the shadow, and his feet touched soil for the first time in weeks. Just a few paces away, his father, Raijaun, Headmaster Florent, and an unusually tall elf stood in a circle pouring arcane power into a silver disc the size of a serving platter set in the center of their ring. With his soul blade already in hand, Daebian strode toward the ring of magic-wielders as nonchalantly as if he were headed to the market to buy cheese.

  Raijaun felt a sharp prick in his back but dared not break his focus on the incredibly powerful spell meant to rip the Scions from their fortress and send them to the lifeless world where Father secreted away his tower and the Source pool. He turned his head to ascertain the source of pain and stared into his brother’s grinning face.

  “Hey there, ugly. Having fun?”

  “You!” Raijaun exclaimed. “Tell me why I shouldn’t tear you apart right now!”

  “For one thing, you would lose control of your spell, not that it’s going to work anyway. But I suppose you and Father are quite accustomed to failure by now, so it won’t come as much of a shock.”

  Azerick glared at Daebian but still maintained his control over the magic. “Daebian, whatever you are here to do, do not do it, or I will end you.”

  “Father, is that any way to greet your only son?”

  “Raijaun is my son!”

  “Is that any way to greet your only attractive son?” Daebian amended.

  “You are vile and do not deserve to be called my son.”

  “You’re certainly half right. Still, it’s rather rude considering the wonderful present I brought you.”

  All eyes glanced at the large, cloth sack he gripped in his free hand as Daebian upturned the bag and spilled its contents. It was a miracle and a lifetime of training that allowed them to maintain control of the magic as the large, grey head rolled onto the ground and glared balefully with its star-filled eyes at those within its purview.

  “Meet Zyn, he thought he was my master.”

  “Wretched…traitorous vermin, I will take…great pleasure in…dragging out your death…for a thousand years!” the Scion railed, its mental voice sounding like a man barely on the edge of consciousness.

  “That’s about enough out of you. Let’s see if your death is traumatic enough to shake your fellows up a bit.”

  “Fool…you may have hurt me…but you cannot kill me. I am…a god!”

  “Nothing is impossible if you have the right tool,” Daebian said and plunged his sword through Zyn’s eye. Klaraxis, shred this creature’s soul without hesitation. Do not attempt to feed on it or absorb any of its power, or it will destroy us both.

  I am not a fool, my prince.

  A psionic keening tore through the minds of every living creature for hundreds of miles. Men and women dropped their weapons and clamped their hands over their ears despite the uselessness of the gesture. Ravagers began writhing on the ground in agony, clawing at the dirt, their brethren, and even their own bodies.

  “Focus!” Azerick shouted. “The Scions are shaken!”

  The fortress itself seemed to cry out in pain. Light flashed chaotically and cracks appeared across its surface. The beam stabbing into the sky from Azerick’s trap doubled in intensity and cast the Scions from their world.

  The four powerful wielders of magic broke the ring and stepped away. Headmaster Florent fell to the ground but waved away Tarth’s helping hands, preferring to just sit and fight for breath.

  “Daebian, I cannot begin to understand you,” Azerick said softly.

  “Of course not. You lack vision, just like everyone else.”

  “Whatever your motivations, you may have saved us all and I thank you.”

  “Well, that’s much nicer. If I had known all it took to earn your respect was the head of a god, I would have done it ages ago.”

  “Daebian…”

  “Not now, Father, you still have things to do, and time is wasting. If you don’t mind, I’ll go find mother while you are off fighting gods. I’m sure she’s been absolutely intolerable with worry since I left. Gloom, go find Mother!”

  “Your mother is in the caves to the east with the other noncombatants.”

  Daebian laughed and shook his head. “It’s true, some things never change. Paramount among those invariable things is your blind ignorance. So long, Brother, Father.”

  Azerick did not have time to think about Daebian’s words. He pushed away the image of Miranda fighting on the frontlines as he burned a sigil into the ground with his staff and imbued it with power from the Source. A world away, Ancalon sensed the rune flare to life, reached out to it with his awesome power, and tore a hole between the two realities so his allies could pass over.

  A soft voice made Azerick balk as he stepped toward the portal. “Azerick, I believe I shall go with you.”

  “Tarth, I have great respect for your power, but this may not be the best place for you.”

  “My grandmother was the last of the Guardians, and she saved me from Klaraxis’ tortures. I think it only fitting that I return her gift by upholding her cause. Do not worry for me. I will do my best to stay out of the way.”

  Azerick nodded and stepped over the threshold to the other world followed by his son and the elf wizard. They did not appear near the tower, but they all clearly felt its proximity. The sounds of a fierce battle echoed not far from where they stood, and the air was electric with spent arcane power. The Scions had been forced from the mortal world once again, and they were not pleased about it.

  “We need to hurry,” Azerick ordered. “Ancalon will not be able to hold them long by himself.”

  Tarth smiled at Raijaun as Azerick wove a gate to take them to the battle. “You know, Lissandra was my grandmother and your mother. That makes you my father even though I am hundreds of years older than you. You owe me a lot of birthday presents.”

  Raijaun gave the strange elf a confused look and followed Azerick through the gate without comment. No one was there to notice Gloom swoop through Ancalon’s portal just before it snapped shut and vanish into a long shadow cast by a nearby tree.

  ***

  Daebian stepped from a man’s shadow just as a ravager blade hewed him down like a tree. The moment of his arrival was fortuitous for him and his mother. Had the man died a second sooner, his shadow would not have been where Gloom showed and Daebian would have been forced to make a blind jump through the shadow ways. As it was, he emerged just in time to block the ravager’s next strike aimed for his mother. Daebian interposed his blade between the ravager’s knife and Miranda and slew the creature with three swift cuts, all in the blink of an eye.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  “Daebian!”

  Miranda grabbed her errant son buy the arm and pulled him back through several ranks of soldiers until she found a spot clear of immediate fight
ing. She ripped off her helm and glared at him with barely suppressed fury.

  “I don’t know whether I should hug you, stab you, or put you over my knee and beat you until you can’t sit!”

  “Let’s go with the first one and see where it leads us.”

  Miranda dropped her sword to the ground and wrapped her arms tightly around her son with a gush of tears. She pushed herself away, tore off her gauntlet, and slapped Daebian across the face.

  “That is for trying to kill your father!”

  Daebian could have easily avoided the strike but chose to let his mother have it. “I did not try to kill Father. If I had tried, I would have succeeded. Father had something I needed, and what he had he didn’t need so I took it, and we’re both better for it.”

  “That does not excuse you for stabbing him. What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” Daebian countered. “Father thinks you are at the caves hiding with the other useless people.”

  “They are not useless, Daebian. They are women, children, and people who are better kept safe than letting them die needlessly on the field.”

  “Apples, oranges, they’re both fruit. Anyway, I came to help.”

  “Have you switched sides yet again? I never though anyone could be so incredibly capricious.”

  “I have not switched sides, Mother. There has only been and will always be but one side—my own. Trust me, my coming here and doing what I do is completely self-serving.”

  “You fought against us! You and your ship killed your own people. You sided with the Scions!”

  “Sometimes one must take some strange paths to reach their destination,” Daebian replied cryptically then smiled. “Besides, they made me call them master and hurt me, and when someone hurts me, I hurt them back. Father is certainly proof of that.”

  Miranda’s eyes filled with sadness and she stroked Daebian’s cheek. “Azerick never meant to hurt you.”

  Daebian shrugged. “I never meant to be brilliant and gorgeous, but that’s what happened, and we all have to live with it.” Daebian looked to the sky. “Watch, Mother, the show is about to start.”