“Doesn’t being honest make you feel better?” Kira asks. She takes a deep breath and locks stares with the fuming heiress. “I should be truthful too. I think you hate yourself and view me as the person you refuse to be. I indulge in the benefits of my station in life while you rail against them. Do you want to know why I do it? It’s because I know that most of Windemere would kill to have the life that I live and this life might not last forever. You’re royalty, so you have less to worry about than me, but if my father’s company goes under then the galas, the fancy clothes, and every other perk that comes with my life will disappear over night. We both know that people in our circles find it easy to forget the friends who fall, so I would be alone without a single friend. I would cease to exist to everyone who has ever met me. Maybe I choose to hide parts of myself behind the mask people expect, but it is healthier than attacking everything that reminds me of what I fear and hate.” She suddenly gets dizzy and has to stop for air.
Kellia politely applauds the slender girl. “Wow. That’s a nice little speech . . . which I can’t argue with. You’re right. I don’t like the high society world I was born into.”
“Now, are we going to have any more problems or are we good?” Kira asks with a friendly smile. She extends her hand for a shake, which Kellia quickly takes and tries to squeeze tightly. A surprised look crosses the stronger girl’s face when Kira nimbly slips her hand out of her grip.
“That’s strange. You could never do that in class,” Kellia whispers.
“A few awkward encounters with Luke forced me to master that move over the last few days,” Kira mentions with a nonchalant shrug. “Now that we’ve settled everything, I have a boyfriend to save. We can continue this conversation when I get back and maybe even talk Selenia into letting us have a weekend trip to Gaia. The two of us can work on your wardrobe now that we know the truth about each other.”
“The two of us becoming friends? This better not be an idea to help your father, Grasdon” Kellia warns her.
“He can take care of his own business. I prefer to enjoy myself before I get into the family business. I’ll have enough stress being a woman in a male-dominated world, so there’s no use being serious now. Maybe I’ll talk to you about business down the road, but for now, I want to have fun,” she casually says. Kira adjusts her backpack, tightening it around her shoulders. “I will talk to you later and I trust you won’t tell anyone about this.”
“I look forward to our conversation,” Kellia says with a small bow. “Now, about that communication orb, I would like to know where you hid it.”
“Please give it back when I return,” Kira requests. She reaches toward her earrings, which are shaped like silver talons, and slides the switches hidden on their smooth underside. Half of a tiny sapphire sphere falls out of each earring and into her cupped palms. Kira presses and twists them together until a small burst of light fuses the pieces.
“Impressively cunning,” Kellia admits after the sphere is dropped in her hand.
“You have to be in order to keep up the appearance of Wayland Grasdon’s daughter and still have some fun,” Kira proudly declares with a smirk. “Take good care of that.”
“If I don’t lose it or accidentally swallow it,” the royal heiress mutters.
Kira stares at her, unsure if Kellia is joking. “That would be the opposite of taking good care of it. You do know that the best communication orbs are always the size of a fingernail. The magic is more condensed and potent.”
“Good luck,” Kellia says with a wave of her hand. Kira quickly sprints to the wall and slips through the hole. Within a few minutes, she is across the killing field and out of sight.
*****
Several hours after leaving Gabriel, Luke begins to see a purple glow through the gnarled trees on his right and cautiously makes his way toward it. Slowly, he comes to the edge of a small clearing with purple mist covering the ground. The purple mist is emanating from a large cauldron made out of a Sirynian Dragon’s rotting head. Most of the head is nothing more than exposed bone, but a few scraps of blue scales remain along the reptilian snout. Luke holds his breath when he notices the cloaked form standing on the far side of the clearing. Vials of spell components are floating through the air around the Lich who is intently staring into a murky pool at his feet. A low humming comes from the necrocaster as he continues to pay attention to whatever is in the dark water.
Luke silently draws his sabers, slipping out from among the twisted trees like a silent breeze. He doesn’t make a sound as he crosses the clearing to get behind the Lich. When he is within a few yards of the Lich, the young warrior launches himself at the monster’s back. He makes no sound as he pushes off the soft ground, swiftly closing the distance between him and his enemy. Luke’s blades are about to slash through the necrocaster’s body when a skeletal hand emerges from the robes and points at him. A blast of crimson gas hits Luke in the face and he collapses as he watches the Lich’s body shimmer and twist. A grunt of anger and pain slips from Luke’s mouth when he realizes that the Lich was facing him the entire time, his body altered by layers of illusion.
“Did it ever cross your mind that I have been watching you ever since you stepped foot in my swamp?” the Lich asks, gliding to the gaudy cauldron. “I would have expected more strategy and intelligence from a youth who defeated a Hellfire Elf.” He plucks a small vile from the air and pours the green liquid into the gurgling brew. The purple mist turns yellow as it continues spewing from the cauldron.
Luke hacks and coughs as he struggles to his feet. He can feel his breathing slowing when a chunky liquid starts to fill his lungs. The Lich cackles gleefully as Luke desperately gasps for air. With his last bit of strength, Luke starts violently coughing until a gelatinous blob of blood flies out of his mouth. His breathing returns to normal as the Lich picks up the hardening blood and tosses it into the cauldron.
“Very impressive, but I expected you to withstand my lung gusher spell,” the Lich admits, flicking off a few crumbs of blood from his fingers. “I don’t believe you appreciate my praise since you are not old enough to understand even the basics of magic. It is incredibly frustrating that a youth like you has stood in my way. If I was still human, I would feel a great amount of shame at being thwarted by you.”
Luke tries to attack again, managing to shatter the Lich’s ribcage with a wild swing before he is shoved to the ground by a violent blast of wind. The half-elf struggles to stand up in the summoned windstorm and pushes through it until he is within reach of the Lich. A flick of the Lich’s wrist causes an electric charge to ripple through the windstorm, repeatedly shocking Luke until his muscles go weak. Again, the half-elf falls to his knees and is forced to gather his strength while the Lich goes back to his cauldron.
“If you were so powerful then I would have been killed by now,” Luke claims, getting back to his feet. “Why do you undead bastards have to be so slow and stupid?”
Without turning away from his cauldron, the Lich stomps his foot into the ground and sends a roaring shockwave at Luke. It takes very little effort for Luke to hurdle the spell and charge the Lich for a third time. As soon as he jumps at the necrocaster, a hand of stone erupts in front of him and bats him into a tree. Luke rolls back to his feet and slowly circles to the other side of the cauldron.
“You’re playing with me,” Luke growls, barely able to ignore the pain from his broken rib.
“Very observant, boy. I could have killed you at any time that I wanted to since you lack the ability to permanently damage me,” the Lich points out, pouring more components into the cauldron. “These ribs will heal in an hour, but you will not be alive to see it happen. I have grand plans for your death.”
“Let me guess. You want to take over my body since I cost you Kellia,” Luke says, inching closer to the cauldron. “That way you can freely move around Windemere and complete the rest of your plans without a lot of interference. I assume that first spell you hit me with was to put part of m
e into your cauldron to make me the target of the body switch. Selenia was right. You’re not that original or smart.”
Luke is within a few feet of the cauldron and reaches into a belt pouch for a piece of dried meat. He waits for the Lich to turn away again and starts to throw the meat into the mixture. A decayed forked tongue suddenly lances out of the draconic cauldron and snatches the meat out of the air. With a low snarl, the dragon head snaps at Luke’s leg, causing the half-elf to frantically stumble away.
“Careful. She has a temper,” the Lich laughs as Luke gets back to his feet. “You are surprisingly intuitive, but you are also wrong. With your body, my plans change entirely. I can do so many more things in your body than I could in the body of a stationary noble. In fact, I have planned on taking over your body ever since you first involved yourself in my activities. Kellia became nothing more than bait to bring you closer to me.”
“I was right on the important part. You wanted to take over my body,” Luke responds, trying to lighten his mood. The Lich throws a bottle of acid into the cauldron and a puff of black smoke spurts into the air.
“You were correct and deduced my plan before I announced it,” the Lich mockingly concedes. He grabs a snail from the ground and drops it into the potion. “I hope that makes you feel proud before you become my vessel. Without any magic, you cannot stop this from happening. I shall be rewarded greatly for disposing of you.”
Luke inches around the side of the cauldron, kicking the snarling face in the nose when it tries to bite him. A pitiful yelp escapes the mouth of the cauldron as it spins around to get its face away from Luke. The Lich is too busy looking through his floating spell components to notice that Luke has gotten closer. He is a few yards away from the necrocaster when he abruptly decides another charge would be pointless.
“Tell me what you’re up to and I’ll make your destruction quick and painless,” Luke declares with a small, nervous quiver in his voice.
“Your false bravado is amusing. The fear in your voice means you have realized the hopelessness of the situation you are in,” the Lich calmly mentions, adding the final components to the cauldron. “These have been the last few minutes of your life and destiny. Your adventure ends with me as it was always meant to.”
“You haven’t really been paying attention. I haven’t exactly been predictable when thwarting you,” Luke says with a cunning smile. “Let me demonstrate.”
Luke quickly spins his sabers and suddenly thrusts both swords into the side of the cauldron. When he pulls them out, they are covered in the magical liquid. The green, putrid ooze drips down the blades and around the hilt until it flows onto Luke’s hands. As soon as the ooze touches his hands, his flesh begins to slowly bubble and burn.
“My cauldron! Foolish child!” the Lich screeches, beginning to cast a spell.
Luke quickly slashes the Lich’s face, making a bubbling cut across the forehead. As he repeatedly cuts into the Lich, a surge of power ripples through Luke’s body. Every strike makes Luke feel like his strength is being sapped as the rotting necrocaster stumbles back, wracked with pain from the burning scars being carved into his body.
The Lich finally manages to punch Luke in the face with a hand of stone and glides to the other side of the cauldron. Luke reflexively rubs his broken nose, which leaves some of the burning liquid onto his face. The sudden pain is intense as he feels his skin bubble and burn. He can barely see the Lich finish a spell before a fan of fire erupts from the necrocaster’s eyes. Luke can feel the fire singe some of his hair as he dives behind the living cauldron.
“That the best you can do?” Luke asks as he catches his breath.
“Do you even realize what you have done?” the Lich hisses in ecstatic joy. “That liquid is giving some of your energy to me every time you cut my body. I need only let you fight until your essence is fully absorbed.”
The cauldron suddenly spins around, the snarling head stopping right in front of Luke. He barely gets his face out of the way when the powerful jaws slam shut. Rolling away from the cauldron, Luke flips to his feet and immediately leaps forward. Both sabers are driven up to their hilts into the rotting eye sockets of the cauldron. The magical liquid inside starts to boil, sending geysers of mist in every direction. Luke frees his swords from the thrashing skull before retreating to the nearest pool. He dives into the icy swamp water, staying submerged as the Lich panics. An explosion rocks the entire swamp as the screaming cauldron sends a black beam of energy into the sky until the rotting skull melts into the soft earth.
“What just happened? What did you do?” the Lich stutters as the mist clears and swamp water flows into the gaping hole where the cauldron used to stand. Luke slowly rises from the water, gasping for air as he clambers onto a patch of soft ground. He raises his head to see that the Lich is missing the entire right half of his body.
“That was unexpected,” Luke whispers, standing up and spinning his sabers. He is about to charge at the Lich when the necrocaster shrieks loud enough to make Luke’s ears bleed. When he regains his senses, Luke sees that the Lich is rapidly regenerating.
“Crap,” the forest tracker mutters. He is about to raise his swords when the Lich’s left arm stretches toward him and grabs his neck. Luke is slammed against the ground as the boney hand tightens around his throat. Black fingernails press into Luke’s skin and he can feel warm slime drip down his neck. He is about to fight back when a force spell hits him, sending his sabers flying out of his hands. Luke desperately reaches out as they are slammed into a nearby branch by the invisible force.
“I have lost my patience with you!” the Lich furiously shouts, his grip tightening until Luke’s eyes start to roll back into his head. “You are more of a troublesome pest than a great hero. It would be better for all involved if I kill you now. I could possibly use you as a skeleton or a zombie. Stop struggling, child. Your weapons are out of reach. Your body is weak from the magical potion you put on yourself. You have no friends to save you from death’s grasp this time.”
“Fizzle make you go poof!” the drite screams as he soars above the clearing. A sonic boom rocks the clearing as Fizzle dives at the Lich, releasing the spell he had been preparing for the last hour. Luke is about to pass out when an enormous beam of golden light hits the Lich, sending him flailing to the ground. The grip around Luke’s neck loosens and he breaks free as the Lich is disintegrated in front of him.
“This isn’t over, Callindor! There are more bodies for me than this one,” the Lich announces, pieces of his body tearing away and evaporating into the air. “We are not done with each other yet, so enjoy your illusion of victory for now.”
Luke begins backing away from the Lich when a wraith of green energy rises out of the twitching body. A soundless scream pierces Luke and Fizzle’s minds as the wraith dives into a pool of water. It takes several minutes for Luke to open his eyes, looking around for any sign of the Lich.
“Spirit escaped,” Fizzle timidly whispers, his tiny body shaking with fear. “Luke angry at Fizzle? Me sorry for intru . . . in . . . get in way.”
Luke retrieves his sabers and is too busy looking at the scars on his hands to hear Fizzle talking. Without a word, he cleans and sheathes his swords before giving Fizzle a big hug. Luke can’t stop himself from smiling at the drite. The smile is stiff and strained as he realizes that half of his face feels like it is almost melted to the bone. Even worse, he can still feel his strength getting slowly sapped by the remaining traces of the Lich’s potion.
“I owe you so much for saving my life, Fizzle,” Luke whispers as he stops trying to smile. “You are the one who deserves credit for beating the Lich. I will have to help Betty make you an apple pie when we get back to the academy. My mom taught me her recipe for a cinnamon apple pie that I think you’d love.”
Fizzle starts to drool at the thought of the apple pie and gently wraps his tail around Luke’s upper arm as he takes his usual perch on the young warrior’s shoulder. Fizzle nuzzles at his cheek,
which causes excruciating pain that Luke can barely handle. Luke takes a final look around the clearing before staggering in the direction of Visindor Forest.
*****
“You must calm down, Selenia,” the old elf maiden says, sitting in the courtyard. Selenia is pacing in front of her while the students continue to repair the academy. “The magic wards have been rebuilt and I have made them stronger than before. If you are worried about Luke then you should stop. He is more than capable of handling himself.”
“You keep saying that, mother,” Selenia snaps, her pacing becoming faster. “As much as I admire your optimism, I think he threw his life away. It’s been two hours and there have been no signs of him.”
Gasps and yells from the other side of the wall catches Selenia’s attention and she is on top of the wall before her mother can say anything. Far in the distance a pillar of black light is rising from the Caster Swamp, piercing a band of gray clouds that rapidly dissipate. The energy disappears soon after everyone feels a faint shockwave through the ground. A few minutes later a small arc of light appears from the same area and it is the last thing anyone sees from the direction of the Caster Swamp.
“The battle is over. Luke is on his way home,” the old elf calmly declares as she stands at the bottom of the wall.
“What makes you so sure of that?” Nimby asks as he walks by with two freshly cut wooden boards and a large saw.
“I just know. You should know too since you are his close friend,” she states with a warm smile. “Do you believe me now, Selenia? You always needed physical proof in order to believe in someone. Faith was never your strong suit.”
Selenia climbs off the wall and remains silent as she stands in front of her mother. She looks in the direction of the swamp then to the remaining damage to her academy. For a second, Nimby thinks Selenia looks fatigued and worn beyond her years. The past few days have weighed heavily on her shoulders and the chance of another student dying has finally been put out of her mind.
Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere) Page 39
