The Legend of Drak'Noir

by Ploof, Michael James

  “Defensive wards!” Fracco managed to shout as he brought up his own glowing dome of energy.

  Kazimir slammed the staff into the stone floor, and the explosion that followed was a beauty to behold. Once the dust had settled, Kazimir floated above the college of Kazam, eyes glowing with the light of magical fury. Wizards and witches flew out of the smoking college, the witches on brooms and the wizards on everything from magic carpets to griffins. Offensive spells filled the air above the college, nearly a hundred in all, but Kazimir only laughed and summoned a globe of magical energy around him. The streaking spells slammed into the globe harmlessly, exploding on contact. Before they could form an effective offensive, Kazimir let loose a sonic shockwave that sent witches and wizards alike spinning through the air end over end or careening and crashing into the Wide Wall.

  The power of Zuul coursed through him. Crackling charges erupted from his fingertips. Magical energy poured into him and he contained it as long as he could. When he thought that he might explode, he thrust his staff forward, aiming for the center of the disk that the college and surrounding grounds sat upon, and let loose his terrible spell. His staff exploded in his hands, giving him a jolt, but not before destroying the magical energy core that made flight possible for the floating college.

  “That will teach you to screw with Kazimir the Most High!” he bellowed, voice enhanced by magic and rumbling like thunder across the land.

  Kazimir turned in the air, robes billowing in the wind, and opened a portal that would take him back to the Twisted Tower. With one final glance back at the smoldering college, he whooshed himself through the portal.

  ***

  Hinckley stepped out of the portal that was supposed to bring him to the observation tower of the college, but when his feet found nothing but air and he began to fall, he let out a curse. Arms flailing, he fell fifteen feet to the rubble below.

  He pulled himself up, cursing and spitting dust, when he heard the telltale sonic boom of a wizard portal closing. Having heard his own portal close moments before, he knew that it could belong to only one person.

  “Kazimir!” he screamed at the sky, seeing the rippling phantom pattern of light winking out.

  “Headmaster?” came a weak voice.

  Hinckley spun around, and only then did he see the gravity of the destruction that had been wrought upon the college and the wide disk that housed it. Smoke billowed from a dozen fires. The main tower was completely gone, and he realized that he now stood in its rubble. A bloody hand stuck out from the rubble, in the direction of the pleading voice.

  “Please. Help,” came the croaking voice once again.

  Hinckley made his way hurriedly through the rubble and, upon reaching the bloody hand, surveyed the chunks of stone that had buried the wizard. He withdrew his wand and removed a large slab, revealing a disheveled and dirty young wizard he recognized as Barlow, a second year at the college he had grown quite fond of.

  “Headmaster, I can’t feel my legs.”

  Hinckley looked and found only dirty, bloody stumps, cut off above the knee. Barlow’s eyes fluttered, and Hinckley cradled his head and wiped his face.

  “You stay with me, Barlow. You hear me? You cannot sleep.”

  Barlow began to nod off, and Hinckley hurriedly cast a spell on him that would leave him in a state of suspended animation. Carefully, he put the lad’s head down and began searching the rubble for other victims. It wasn’t long before he came across High Wizard Fracco, who was beaten and bloody, but still standing.

  “There you are!” said Fracco, limping over to his superior.

  “I knew that Kazimir had grown powerful, but this…how could he have done this, against all of you?”

  “I have never seen anything like it, Headmaster. He is a wizard possessed.”

  Hinckley surveyed the destruction, and a shiver passed through him.

  Fracco looked past him. “Where is young Murland?”

  “The fool refused to come.”

  “He what?”

  Hinckley let out a sigh. “Come on. Let’s deal with the injured first. For everything has changed, and we have much to discuss.”

  Chapter12

  Angry Wizards, and the Birds and the Bees

  The Iron Fist sailed past the small island and a horn rang out. Murland could see Gibrig waving his arms at them; indeed, it seemed as though everyone was on deck looking their way.

  “We better get back,” said Murland as he put on his boots. “They probably saw Hinckley whooshing and are wondering what’s going on.”

  Caressa stopped him from lacing his boots and looked deeply into his eyes. “I don’t regret it, you know.”

  “I know, I mean…I don’t either,” he said with a smile.

  She kissed him and laughed like a lass five years younger.

  Once they were presentable, Murland shouldered his backpack, strapped Caressa into the harness, and took to the sky. They flew high over the Iron Fist toward the sunset, sharing the moment until the sun had been winked out by the ocean. When they landed on the ship’s deck, the companions came running and talking all at once.

  “What happened there?” Sir Eldrick demanded.

  “Was that Kazimir who done whooshed onto the island?” said Gibrig.

  “What did he say?” Brannon put in.

  “Better yet, why is your undershirt on backwards?” said Wendel with a knowing look, eyes waggling lewdly at the princess. “Looks like someone’s been knocking boots.”

  Willow slapped him in the back of the head, causing his skull to spin like a top.

  Murland glanced at his shirt and pulled his robes tight. “Everything is alright. No, that was not Kazimir. It was Headmaster Hinckley of the College of Kazam.”

  “Hinckley?” said Sir Eldrick, looking to the island.

  “Well, what did he want?” said Brannon.

  “He came to take me away with him. He said that I had to take on Zuul, said that I was the chosen one and all that, and that another fool would take my place.”

  “He admitted to the lie then?” said Sir Eldrick.

  “Yeah, he wanted me to leave you all to your fate. He said that he would wipe your minds and send you away none the wiser.”

  “That bastard!” said Hagus, punching a fist into his palm.

  “But I thought that he was a good wizard,” said Gibrig.

  “Good is not always black and white,” said Valkimir. “Sometimes things are not so simple as that.”

  “He’s a douche!” said Wendel, which gained him another crack upside the head from Willow.

  “Murland told him to go F himself,” said Caressa proudly.

  Hagus burst with laughter and slapped his knee, and Sir Eldrick looked impressed.

  “You did that for us?” said Gibrig, eyes tearing like they often did.

  “I sure did, Gib. I did it for a number of reasons, and you are one of them.”

  “That wizard ain’t going to give us any trouble, is he?” asked McArgh, who had heard the entire exchange from up on the poop deck.

  “I don’t think so,” said Caressa. “But he warned that Kazimir would be after us now.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s gotta get through me first,” said Murland.

  Sir Eldrick cocked a brow at that. “We’ve got to work out what all this means. Come on. It is about dinner time anyway. Let’s talk below.”

  Captain McArgh and Ravenwing joined them below deck, and Murland told them everything that Hinckley said in detail. When he finished his tale, the room was quiet, and everyone’s brow furled in thought.

  “It looks like we’re on our own,” said Brannon.

  “Haven’t we always been?” said Willow. “Nothing has changed.”

  “She’s right,” said Sir Eldrick. “We cannot depend on Hinckley and the other wizards. We cannot depend on our leaders, for they have all hung us out to dry.”

  “What do we do when Kazimir comes looking for us?” Willow asked.

  “We fight-
fight!” said Dingleberry.

  “No, we can’t fight that one,” said Willow. “He’s got too much magix.”

  “She’s right,” said Murland. “Hinckley said that the wizards of Kazam had been keeping Kazimir from us, but now he has escaped.”

  “I have heard of this Kazimir,” said Ravenwing. “I do not fear the man.”

  “Well, you should,” said Sir Eldrick. “I fear that he will use you all against us,” he added, looking to Akitla.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” said Valkimir.

  “I respect your valiant sensibilities, trust me, I do. But think for a moment. What do you think Kazimir will do to you all to twist our arms?”

  “No,” said Brannon, looking from a nodding Valkimir to Sir Eldrick. “NO! You are not going anywhere.”

  “You know that it must be done,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “Wait just a damned minute,” said Hagus. “What in the hells ye all be talkin’ ‘bout? I ain’t for findin’ me boy, then leavin’ him to fight a dragon on his own.”

  “Thanks, Pa. But I think I be knowin’ where they be goin’ with this,” said Gibrig.

  “Gib…”

  “We have a hard choice to make,” said Sir Eldrick, standing and looking them all in the eye one after the other.

  “I have to agree with Hagus,” said Caressa. “If it is fools that Kazimir needs to travel to Bad Mountain, then he has what he wants. What does he care if it is five fools or ten?”

  “Eleven!” said Wendel. And this time, no one told him to shut up.

  A deep silence filled the room.

  “I don’t know,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “What are you saying, Father?” said Akitla. “Are you suggesting that we, that I…leave?”

  “No…I mean, hells, I don’t know what to do. I know that Kazimir is going to be right pissed that you all didn’t heed his warning.”

  “What does that matter to him now?” said Valkimir. “The pixie is out of the bag, as they say. We all know the truth of the prophecy, yet we still intend on going to Bad Mountain. Like Caressa said, what does he care how many of us there are?”

  “Wizards are unpredictable. There is no telling what Kazimir might do. I would rather not find out.”

  “So, it is true, you want me to leave,” said Akitla.

  “Of course not. But I don’t want to put you in danger either,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” said Hagus.

  “Neither am I,” said Valkimir.

  Dingleberry landed on Willow’s shoulder and unsheathed her needle. “Let Kazimir wiz-wiz come-come. I’ll stick-stick him in the ass!”

  “Same goes for me,” said Caressa, looking to Murland. “A thousand wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”

  Wendel gagged.

  “I appreciate it, but, well, I don’t know,” said Murland. “Like Sir Eldrick said, Kazimir is unpredictable.”

  “I believe that the group has spoken,” said Ravenwing, looking to McArgh. “If Kazimir wants trouble, then trouble he is going to get.”

  ***

  Later that night, when the stars were out in full and everyone not on work detail was fast asleep, Murland stood leaning against the rail of the bow, looking west. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so worried was he about what Kazimir might do once he found out that Caressa and the others hadn’t heeded his warning. He felt betrayed by the old wizard, who had convinced him that he was a champion. Murland’s cocky words to Hinckley had been uncharacteristic, and even Caressa had noticed, but in truth, Murland had just been posturing. His self-image had been rocked by the revelation of Kazimir’s deception, and he realized how much danger the companions had put themselves in once they began to believe in themselves. He didn’t want to admit it to the others, but he still had his reservations about facing Drak’Noir, and his attempt to convince Caressa to leave for her own good had stemmed from those doubts. For if anything happened to her, he didn’t know if he could live with himself.

  He heard someone walking toward him, and assuming that it was Caressa, he put on a smile and turned around. Upon seeing Sir Eldrick, he let his guard down and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Can’t sleep?” said the knight, who must have borrowed a pipe from Hagus, for it stuck out of the left side of his mouth, and the way he nonchalantly kept the cherry glowing, Murland guessed that he had smoked his share of tobacco.

  “Not a wink. You?”

  “Nah, I’m a light sleeper as it is, and I’ve never been fond of sleeping on boats. But you never seem to have trouble with it. What’s on your mind?”

  “Where to begin,” said Murland, and Sir Eldrick waited. “I’m worried about what Kazimir will do, for one. And…well, now that the truth has come out, I’m worried that we’re in way over our heads. How in the hells are we going to defeat Drak’Noir? I mean, we aren’t champions after all, we’re just a bunch of fools.”

  “No, you’re not,” said Sir Eldrick, reassuringly. “I thought that once, but I don’t anymore. Trust me, Murland, this world is full of fools, but you four, well, you’re something altogether different. You forget that long before this quest began, I was already a champion. I have faced monsters, armies, wizards, witches, giants, trolls, you name it. I have seen seemingly brave men fall apart when the moment of truth comes, and I have seen those thought to be cowards rise to glory. You never really know what someone is made of until they are tested. You, Brannon, Willow, and hells, even Gibrig, have turned out to be true champions.”

  “I guess you’re right. But still, we’re talking about Drak’Noir.”

  Sir Eldrick shrugged. “I believe that we’ll find a way, just like we always have.”

  They stood in silence for a while, staring at the star-filled sky. The night was mild, with only a hint of the cold of the north blowing in now and again. Murland’s thoughts soon drifted back to Caressa, as they always did, and he glanced at Sir Eldrick, wanting to ask him things that he had never gotten answers to. His father had never spoken to him about lovemaking, and what he learned at Abra Tower had been strictly academic.

  “What’s on your mind?” said Sir Eldrick, ever aware.

  “Well, ugh, I was wondering about women.”

  Sir Eldrick perked up. “I was wondering what was going on during you and the princess’s little picnic. Did you…”

  “Yeah,” said Murland, blushing. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling quite awkward.

  “Good for you, lad. Good for you. How was it?”

  “It was amazing. I mean, for me it was.”

  “Ah, and you are wondering about your performance, eh?”

  “Yeah,” said Murland, glad to not have to say it aloud. “I was just wondering…er, how long should it take?”

  Again the knight chuckled and patted Murland on the back. “Well, that depends. Everyone is different. But you know, it isn’t always about how long you last.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “Not at all. I mean, you don’t want to be a minute-man all your life, but for your first time…it was your first time, right?”

  Murland nodded.

  “Well then, it is completely normal to be quick. There are things that I can teach you that will improve your stamina.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, like thinking about something else, for instance. Like, say a troll’s warty backside, for instance.”

  Murland was confused. “But that is gross. Why would I think about that?”

  “To cool you down, take your mind off sex.”

  “Doesn’t that kind of ruin it?”

  Sir Eldrick shrugged. “You want to impress your lady friend or not? Remember, while we must try not to reach climax too soon, many women have to try hard to get there, and it is our job to make sure they do. I mean, if you care about them that is.”

  “I more than care about Caressa. I love her.”

  “And I assume that she feels the same way?”

  “She said she did.”


  “Well then, you have nothing to fear. Lovemaking is different than, say, sex for sport. When two people love each other, it is special.”

  “It sure is. I daresay that it is better than magic.”

  “That it is, my friend. That it is.”

  Chapter 13

  A Dark Lullaby

  “Where is he?” said Kazimir as soon as he exited the portal and stepped out into the room near the top of the Twisted Tower. But even as he spoke the words, he heard the ear-piercing cry of baby Zuul.

  The old witch turned from the crib in the corner of the room slowly, her eyes sheepishly downcast. “Thank the demons you are here. For he is near death,” she said in her slow, throaty voice.

  “You incompetent hag! I leave for a few days and you almost kill him? What happened?” said Kazimir, hurrying over to the crib and shoving the witch out of the way. Zuul was pale, and his demonic red eyes were crusted closed. Snot clogged his nose, creating little bubbles when he breathed, and how the child wailed.

  “He ate Zorromon, but the bastard wizard poisoned himself right before he was killed,” said the witch, slowly backing away from Kazimir.

  “You let him eat poisoned wizard?” Kazimir erupted. Zuul’s crying and the sheepish witch had set him over the edge. He turned on the witch, brandishing his wand.