Teliko Mageia: Curse of the Frozen Flame

by A. J. Carbonell

  Sure enough, Jael could see the slight glimmering presence of a mysto working written into the very fabric of the crisscross ink pattern.

  Now I can finally start my search. I only hope it truly does exist, Jael thought. Sanhera, the village name flickered in the back of his mind. Sanhera. Well, he’d no great reason to stick around Almodea, especially without available work. Sanhera first. He was unable to shake the feeling he must see it. “Mappa!” he said. The mysto glowed, a ghost-like image solidifying in the air above the parchment. A hologram appeared with a list of villages, towns and cities tabulated at the right-hand side. But Sanhera was nowhere to be found. He frowned and questioned the merchant.

  “Sanhera? Sanhera was destroyed twenty years ago. That map is merely ten years old, I’m sorry. However, I believe Sanhera was located just directly south of Netherwoods,” the vendor replied.

  “Many thanks,” Jael answered, and he left Almodea.

  On their way to Sanhera, Jael and Frekkis came across the Barren Drylands, a desert with no visible source of water. Deep cracks riddled the dry, arid ground, uninhabitable by people. Scant, thirsty trees grew amid the rocks and stretches of beaten earth, few and far to be seen. Jael was shocked to see a man of his age slumped beneath a solitary elm in the wasteland, a dusty turban wrapped around his head. He approached with caution. Weak, unconscious even, but as they neared, the stranger cast a spell suddenly and ferociously, a wild look in his eyes.

  “Earth Rage!” the man shouted. Large clumps of the ground burst into pieces and swelled above the road. He uttered the words: “Earth’s Shower!”

  Cracked stone barrelled towards Jael and Frekkis. Frekkis, swift as she was, managed to dodge. Jael cast Kappe Flam. Projectiles of stone struck the fizzling shield of white-hot air and blasted away. “Wait! Stop! I mean you no harm!

  “Earth Rage!” Again, the ground rose. “Golem Heart!”

  Jael knew of this one, although he had no gift of earth magick himself. A spell in which floating rocks are attached to the body of the mage, forming armour. The man himself appeared half mad with terror; he clads himself with earth.

  Jael cast the spell Blazia but did not throw it. This was no monster rampaging in the planes! The dusty robed man was a human, not one known to him. He closed in, fire magick at the ready. “Sir, please! I don’t know you, but I mean no harm.”

  “Away from me, demon!”

  “I am no demon. I am a traveller, not your enemy.” Jael tried to reassure the man, but perhaps the fire in his fists kept the man’s walls of caution alert.

  “If that is true, you should leave this place, unless your wish is to die,” the man howled. “There is a demon here!”

  “What is this demon? What does it want from you?”

  The man faltered. “The demon I speak of is the Doppel Spirit, an evil spirit that controls a body and consumes it. It spreads, infecting many bodies! It can appear in anyone! It attacked my village and consumed everybody, everybody! Only three of us escaped, but we… we were separated.” His voice cracked, and he shuddered into his dusty robes.

  “Sir–I can help you with this demon. I am Jael, a fire mage, and I refuse to turn a blind eye and just allow innocents to perish at the hands of a demon.”

  Tears sprung from the man’s eyes and he whispered back: “My name is Vaan Krieg. Thank you… thank you.”

  As they walked onwards, Vaan said little. In the distance appeared a fellow wolf and Frekkis howled in excitement. “Be careful! That might be the Doppel Spirit,” Vaan cautioned.

  “Frekkis! Be alert!” Jael warned. The wolf drew nearer to them, walking light on its large black paws. It kept its eyes on silvery Frekkis, she was mesmerised with the presence. She rushed to meet the wolf, and they communicated silently, a few metres from the men. The black wolf made as if to lick Frekkis’ ear, and suddenly snapped its jaws and bit her neck, instantly wounding her. Frekkis staggered back, rich red blood staining her coat, already grubby from days of hard travel.

  As Jael cried out and summoned his magick, the creature’s mouth opened in a disembodied, eldritch shout. “Halt! Give me the Earth Bearer, that I may use him for my own purposes. You and your beast may go.”

  “Begone, demon! You’ll find no host for your spirit here,” Jael screamed. Without hesitation the doppel wolf struck. Jael dodged.

  “Careful! It can possess you the moment it touches you!” Vaan warned.

  The doppel shimmered and split into many wolves, three, four, and finally five, snarling.

  “It’s an illusion! Only one of them is real!” Vaan gathered himself and summoned pieces of the surrounding earth to rotate in an ever-widening tornado.

  “Frekkis, get behind Vaan! You cannot be touched by the enemy!” Frekkis hurried to Vaan. “Now give me your best shot, demon.” Jael drew fire into his hands and challenged the doppels.

  A doppel copy rushed Jael; he clapped, and a burst of flames incinerated the copy.

  “Not bad, mage. But can you take three of me?” the doppel intoned from above, three replicates surrounding Jael. Three identical ferocious faces set upon Jael simultaneously. Jael cast Rokka, quickly dashing away from the violent wolves. “Splendid! Perhaps your corpse can be my home, fire mage!”

  The wolves split yet again into many more duplicates, running around the group in a pack. “Pillar Flare!” Jael yelled, erupting flames bursting up around him and destroying the doppelgängers, revealing the true demon wolf beneath. But Vaan had spent much of his magickal stamina. Weak from his exertions, the protective rocks slowed in the air, and the demon struck. Jael targeted with another fire attack to draw it away from Vaan. The clones again assaulted Jael, Frekkis howling quick in response.

  “Frekkis, no!”

  Jael blasted a smouldering crater to separate the wolves. Vaan’s strength failed, and he staggered. Fortunately, Jael had taken the time to procure more than a few healing mystos back in the markets of Almodea. He bent and secured the bag on Frekkis’ back, sending the mystos over by his trusted courier to regain Vaan’s health and stamina.

  “This is you and me, demon. You can’t catch Frekkis at her full speed,” Jael said to the doppel.

  The opportunity for a brand-new wolf form slipping away did not dissuade the demon’s advances. “Very well, then. It is you who shall be consumed!” The doppel with his copies stood still and shrieked in its shrill, directionless voice of the abyss: “Twelve Archetypes!” Not a spell that Jael knew. But he guessed before it happened. Twelve demon counterparts, clones of the doppel, whipped up from the shadowy weight surrounding the dark spirit appeared. The demon clones rushed him, chomping down upon his arm and calf. He flailed, throwing them off with a burst of flame. It was too late. It took a mere touch. “At last… a powerful host. With this body and magick, I’ll be unstoppable!” the doppel cried.

  A shadowy spirit erupted from the wolf body. The corporal form collapsed, rotting before their eyes. Its corpse disintegrated from dead meat, wretched old bones not even a vulture would pick at, finally decomposing into desiccated ashen meal. Dense spirit energy surrounded Jael. He felt a chilling pressure weigh his skull and chest, icy fingers prying open paths through his soul body, and into the corporeal.

  The spirit formed a huge serpent made of pulsating shadowy knots. Its distended jaw wrapped around Jael’s skull and his vision blurred, deep pressing, throbbing. Chaotic images became waking dreams struggling to win over reality, his mind losing. A woman holding an infant child, flames consuming everything around them. He ran towards the woman. But the presence faded into sharp grating naught as the spirit took hold of him.

  Freed out of his reverie, he made a last effort to save his soul from demonic possession. Screaming to the sky, Jael raised his arms and searing bright starlight energies burst from within his body, surrounded him in a burning orb. The black shadow recoiled from the magickal flames, gradual at first, then fled with zeal, in desperate retreat from Jael’s glowing frame.

  “Golem Heart!” Vaan
shouted.

  Frekkis must’ve made it with the mysto, Jael thought.

  Vaan commanded enchanted rocks and dropped them to form a prison around the doppel spirit. Jael found a last wind of conscious energy flow and struck the rocks, searing them into one molten mass of lava. That would have to hold it.

  Pale and speechless, he fell to his knees, dazed. Finally, he slid to the ground and fell into a deep black sleep, free of the demon’s penetrating hold.

  He awoke early the next day, Frekkis, now clean curled up by his side. Round them rose a fresh smelling shelter, constructed magickally of mundane orange clay by Vaan. Vaan sat in the entrance, leaning against the sloped wall, shaping a stone with tiny bored bursts of earthen magick. He glanced over when he heard Jael’s yawn. “You’re awake. You all right? That was… quite a battle yesterday.”

  An understatement, thought Jael. “I’m fine. What will you do now?”

  “My village is destroyed. My allies… I ought to search for them, but I don’t know where to begin. For all I know, they’re long dead now…” He sighed, the pain of the loss heavy on his face.

  “Why don’t you tag along? We might meet them on the way,” Jael offered.

  Vaan agreed to join their company before he’d even heard out Jael’s plan to visit Sanhera. As they traversed the drylands, Jael explained he felt called to the place, but didn’t understand why.

  “It does not matter why,” Vaan said gravely. “One must always go where one is called. That much I know.”

  Far away, in a hidden stronghold, Hornhawl reported to the Tiger Paw faction’s general, Chollo Nugash. Instead of the disarray of the easily taken bandit camp, Chollo’s direct underlings worked from a highly secure fortress. Mages crossed the grounds at regular intervals, keeping watch on the land around, and the fort itself was shrouded in the relative security of a jagged and severe mountain range. Chollo himself was a grim-faced young man and he received Hornhawl while sitting at the head of a great wooden table. Fourteen banners hung down the hewed stone walls, each representing a single branch of mageia.

  His trembling subordinate stood before him, readying himself. “My lord, my band had been driven away from our camp! A young fire mage defeated us.” Hornhawl exclaimed.

  “Yes. I have heard of your failures, Hornhawl. What of the Helico?”

  “My lord, I... it is gone... the old man hired him to retrieve the Helico,” Hornhawl said.

  “Who is this young lad?” Chollo asked. “I do not know his name, sire.”

  “You worthless piece of muck! Get out of my sight!” Chollo roared, slamming his fist on the table, his grey eyes burning with outrage. Hornhawl fled and Chollo sat there, fulminating, contemplating his new enemy.

  After the attack at the Barren Drylands, Jael, Frekkis and Vaan came across the Hageiu Fields. “Mappa,” Jael said, activating the holographic map. He studied it, finding the path through to the Netherwoods. There were two marked villages along the way.

  Vaan viewed the map with interest. “That’s quite a device you have there, Jael. Now, we have to cross the Hageiu Fields, but there’s a little town after it and we can stock up on our supplies– and of course, eat! I’m starving,” he exclaimed.

  And so it was that they tread the Hageiu Fields toward the small town of Parabia. The field was dangerous and frequented by the unsavoury. Halfway there, they were set upon by a small group of bandits armed with hatchets and scythes. They were dealt with as soon as they arrived, and the group continued unharmed. Once more this happened on their journey and were ended as easily as the first. With Vaan’s aid, and loyal Frekkis, Jael began to feel downright confident.

  After successfully crossing the vast fields of Hageiu, Jael along with Frekkis and Vaan, they saw a man sprinting towards them. Jael gestured a wave and a quick smile as a greeting. However, horror can easily be seen on the man’s face.

  “The Titans! I... it’s that queen’s fault, you know! You ought to be running too!” The man kept running, and soon he was gone. It was not long afterwards they came across the ruins of a village.

  “Sounds like these titans aren’t exactly the friendly sort,” Vaan said.

  Parabia was a quaint town between the Hageiu Fields and the Netherwoods, peaceful and self-sufficient. The sort of place that Jael appreciated. Still, the guards seemed to have a healthy sense of wariness. As the travellers drew near, two marshals exited the guard tower, and one of the guards readied a crackling energy spell. A word or two could be heard, “look like mages,” “could be troublemakers,” “yes, sir.” Jael was prepared for trouble, but once they’d come within a safe hailing distance, the guards only gestured for them to stop.

  Jael’s fingers twitched; he yearned to ready Blazia just in case, but Vaan sensibly pushed his arm back down. “Hey, calm down,” Vaan said. “You’ve been running around in the wilderness too long. Looks like you do need me to stick around after all, or you’ll end up in a dungeon. Let’s not pick an unnecessary fight with authority, eh?”

  The marshals came to them after a moment or two of discussion amongst themselves. “Halt, travellers! What is your purpose in Parabia?”

  “We seek food and supplies, sir,” Jael answered.

  “Very well then, you may go on.” The marshal still kept a suspicious eye on them, but the guards moved to open the city gate. “We are grateful, sir,” Jael replied. While he might have been eager for a fight at times, he was nothing short of polite.

  “Before anything else, let’s eat! I’m really starving!” Vaan exclaimed and slapped him on the back. Fortunately, while perhaps suspicious of travellers, Parabia was not lacking in tiny inns for the wayfaring, and Vaan quickly sniffed out the best smelling of the options. Parabia’s concept of an inn was a bit smaller in scale than the rowdier social houses Jael was accustomed to. Most were two stories, with room for perhaps a bed or two upstairs, and a downstairs with a beverage keg, a non-choice of “the special”, and half a dozen stools. Many of them sold small selections of strange, non-specific supplies.

  “Is there a market in the city?” Jael asked the woman tending “the special” for the Brown Spooked Jaggery Bed and Diner. It appeared to be bird meat of some kind, still clinging to the over- boiled bones, submerged in a sloppy, lumpy stew of orange mealy root vegetable. Spicy enough Jael couldn’t tell if the meat was cooked too long, or completely off. The side dish was a smashed, glutinous grain with an unappealing flavour. It cut the spice in half, though, and he could understand why they’d been paired, even if the idea of consuming it again wasn’t thrilling.

  Vaan finished off his plate with a satisfied belch. “Maybe we can find information here about Netherwoods and Sanhera. We should ask around.” Vaan said. Jael nodded, and they carried about their respective business in the quiet marketplace, both in search of supplies and information.

  Though they split up, every person told them the same. There was a beast lurking in the shadows of Netherwoods, killing everything that came its way. They received the news with interest, and returned to the town marshal, now comfortably holed up in the watch house, to question him. “Sir, I’ve heard there is a beast lurking in Netherwoods. Do you have any information you might share with us?” Jael asked.

  The marshal’s eyes widened. “The Netherbeast? Why would you seek such a monster?”

  “We seek the destroyed village of Sanhera, and, according to the map vendor, it is directly west of the Netherwoods. We need to cross it,” Jael answered.

  “You’ll never make it there alive! Our battle-mages entered with a troop of guards, yet none returned. They’re feared dead.”

  “All the same, sir–we are powerful mages, not to be taken lightly. I believe that if we can find this beast, we can kill it.” Jael remembered their past battles and swelled with pride. Perhaps not only could he prove it to himself, but he could help the endangered citizens of Parabia.

  The marshal laughed. “Finding it, young man, is not the problem. I can assure you of that. Come with me.” The
marshal turned abruptly and left the room, leading them to the mayor’s office, just across the town square–really, more of an oblong oval, with the important civil amenities and offices spitting out up little wandering pathways around old trees and jutting stone.

  His office was tucked flush against a flat granite cliff face, a small chimney spitting black coal smoke up into the air. The mayor looked like he never left the office, surrounded by heaps of paperwork stacked in an orderly fashion, a trash bin at his side heaped with crinkled papers and food scraps. On his stovetop, two sausages sizzled, and a tea kettle steamed. He looked up from his stack of bogged down, non-productive, soul-draining bureaucracy, and set down his wooden pen from his leathery callused fingers in a polished brass widget.

  “Mayor Strooge, these are the travellers who came by our town earlier today,” the marshal said.

  “Welcome to Parabia, young travellers. I am the town mayor, Mayor Strooge, what can I help you with?” the mayor said in his gravelly, yet comforting voice.

  “I am Jael, this is Vaan and my companion Frekkis. Thank you for your warm welcome. We would like to ask about the Netherbeast, which lies on our path to Sanhera.”

  “Are you certain that you must cross the Netherwoods? Kras, the netherbeast lives there; it is a powerful monster indeed, vicious and bloodthirsty.”

  But Jael could not be so easily dissuaded. “We want to go to Sanhera–I need to know about that village.”

  The mayor could clearly see there was no deterring them from their folly. Perhaps some part of him that’d not been hardened by long years of unrewarding, yet well-paying work had a hope that if anyone could help, it was the kind and foolish traveller. And he had no reason to grieve should they fail. And so it was that it was not so very hard to convince him to tell them what he knew. “Very well. Twenty years ago, Sanhera was a small but very peaceful village. People who lived there were very kind and helpful. A group of bandits came, raided the village, and burned it to the ground. Now what is left is merely a ruin. It was rumoured that the bandits were directly under the command of the Titans. The Netherwoods does indeed cover the path to the village, and it is home to many other foul creatures along with the Netherbeast. It is a large monster which resembles a gorilla but has the fangs of a lion, according to our reports. None who lived have gotten a good look at it, and those who’ve truly seen it cannot tell their tales.