by Roy C. Booth
“Yes, legless. He eats them. Has seven different recipes for same, as a matter of fact.” Jihan laughed.
“Oh.” Iriana didn’t know whether to laugh or vomit.
“But, yes, your more powerful weather controlling spells are indeed vocal-based,” Jihan confirmed. “It has been a long held occult belief that changes can be brought about in nature through the power of words. Your cloud calling, Iriana, as you have pointed out, draws and manifests its power in a potent combination of incantations–harmonics, ritual, body, mind, spirit–all serving as a conduit betwixt the sky and the earth, for rain is merely formerly evaporated water that gets recycled in the clouds. Your magic, in many ways, is the purest, my dear, a full circle of the Cycle of Life.”
Iriana was about to ask another question when they were interrupted by a troop of Dreanu soldiers passing by, tired and ragged from their search.
“I hadn’t realized so much time has gone by,” said Theran. “It’s getting close to dark.”
“Yes,” agreed Iriana.
“A pleasant side effect of the spell. Time works a bit differently in this bubble. See?” The soldiers then sped out of the area, disappearing back into the forest as the sun sank below the horizon.
“We’ll rest a bit and then continue on our way, get a head start on them at dawn.” Jihan seemed to be giving instruction but at the same wanting Theran’s input if they should do differently. Theran nodded in agreement.
And with that Jihan leaned back again on his back and fell asleep.
Dawn came, and Jihan dispelled the spell after everyone awoke and had a light breakfast. They gathered their gear and pressed on. They walked a while, noticing the heat of the day drying their clothes. Iriana’s smile was unlike any Jihan had seen, and he made several comments along the way about how bright it was.
The day soon passed quickly.
Jihan offered to take first watch while the others slept. Theran and Iriana made themselves as comfortable as possible. As soon as Iriana was asleep, Theran joined Jihan at the campfire.
“How long do you think we have until they catch up to us since we are on foot at present?” Jihan asked.
Theran smiled wistfully. It was nice having a wizard ask him for advice and knowledge, but sad that he, too, knew how unlikely they were to reach their intended destination without a direct confrontation of some sort. “Less than a day. Upon seeing that storm she made, they will continue searching nonstop.” He paused. “I have been meaning to ask you, how did she make that storm so fast? And why was it so strong?”
“She is more than just a simple Cloud Caller. Her father was a wizard. Magic of the elements and the magic of Cloud Calling runs through her veins. She is more special than anyone knows,” Jihan winked, “other than you and I, at this moment.”
Theran glanced over toward the young woman and then back to Jihan. “Think we can defeat the approaching army?”
Jihan grimaced. He reached down and pulled a blade of grass from the ground and put it in his mouth, chewing it slowly. “No, we cannot stop them, at least not directly. She is still too raw and untested, especially for combat. I am a transmuter and a minor enchanter: I do not go about tossing fireballs or call down devastating bolts of lightning. I rely on change and subtlety, not raw power.” Jihan sighed. “If she calls upon a storm and I use all my powers, even then, they would overcome just the three of us. And we are still too far from the Hill of Summoning and the Wizard Circle.”
“Then, what do we do, Jihan?” asked Theran as composed as he could manage.
He smiled. “It’s not a question of what we should do, young Theran, it is now more a question of what I should do.”
Jihan poured some water on the ground, cast a spell, and an image of the Dreanu army appeared. Theran jumped back at first, and then gathered his senses to observe the army. “They are close, too close. You must wake her, and move, now,” Jihan said, urgently.
“You are staying here?” asked Theran.
“Yes, I will slow them the best I can,” Jihan stated. “You must get her to the Circle.”
Theran turned, gathered his items, and then went to shake Iriana, but stopped. “Why would a wizard of your stature sacrifice himself to protect a Cloud Caller?”
“It is more than that. Do not tarry! Go and do not stop again.”
“Tell me,” Theran demanded. “She will ask, and I must know.”
“There isn’t time, you saw where they are and how close. Get going, now,” said Jihan, impatiently.
“Tell me.” This time it was a plea and a demand. Theran stood his ground and would not be moved without an explanation.
Jihan placed his hand on Theran’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. “I am a father protecting my daughter. There. Now you know. Get her to safety. Tell the other wizards that her father, Jihan, has more than likely fallen and it will be their duty alone to protect her, for I claim the right of succession, and, with you as my witness, hereby declare her to be one of our own.”
Theran paused, shocked at the news. He wanted to ask so many questions and say so many things to this wizard. He knew the army approached and that he would not have time. He wished that Jihan could tell Iriana this, but he also knew that Iriana would not leave her father to die. A complete stranger is one thing, but the father she never knew is completely different. Theran made his mind up in mere moments. “I will tell them so.”
“Good.” Jihan gripped his staff in both hands, turned, and strode off toward the oncoming army, never looking back. “Now, go.”
Theran quickly woke the young woman, hurrying her every movement. “We must go, and not stop until we reach the Circle.”
They started off in a run, and before they had gone too far, Iriana came to her senses. “Where is Jihan?”
Theran shook his head, and considered for a moment on whether he should reveal the new information or not. “He is going to circle around and try to make sure we aren’t being followed. He will catch up with us at the Circle,” he said, trying his best to conceal his bold faced lie.
Hours later they heard the distant clang of battle, strange lights were seen in the distance, followed by what appeared to be giant trees popping out of the forest canopy only to crash down shortly thereafter.
This lasted for a good part of the day, yet ended at the edge of nightfall.
No more sounds were heard from that direction thereafter. Theran assumed that Jihan held them off but eventually fell in battle. He kept his assumption to himself.
They traveled on, through the night, and then finally into the clearing of the plains. From the plains, they knew they were not much further from reaching their destination. The next day they kept a slow pace until they saw the Hill of Summoning looming far in the great distance. From there, they practically ran the rest of the way until they encountered a knight upon a griffin.
“Ho, there, younglings!” he called out as he landed his steed not too far from them, and dismounted. Lifting up his visor, he was an older man, of fair complexion and good health. A long jagged scar ran across his face. “Tell me why you are in these lands, especially you, Dreanu. Are you in need of assistance?” The knight held his ground, his sword still undrawn by his side, confident and assertive.
“I … We …” stammered Iriana.
“We come with news from Jihan,” shouted Theran. “Take us to the Council of Six! Our need to speak to them is dire and urgent.”
“Please,” added Iriana.
The knight didn’t hesitate. “I have only room for one more, milady.” He proffered a gauntleted hand. “I will speed your way to the Hill of Summoning so you may tell my colleagues of your dire news.”
“Y-you are Azurth?” Iriana asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Of Koron, yes, the very same,” he said with a smile. “Come, take my hand, and I will help you mount Aeroax.” Iriana accepted his hand, and he effortlessly placed her on the griffin. “Now, you, young man, wait here. I will send one of my lieutenants to fet
ch you later.”
“I … ah … yes, I will wait. Here. Sir.” Theran didn’t want to let Iriana out of his sight, but knew she had a better chance of making it to the Hill of Summoning with this wizard, and that was his true mission.
“Splendid.” He mounted his fantastic steed, made sure Iriana had a good grip upon him, and promptly flew off to the Hill of Summoning.
Theran patiently kept trekking toward the Hill of Summoning before he saw some of his people’s giant condor riders circling high overhead. The sight chilled his bones: He knew they could see him since he was so exposed out in the open with hardly any cover whatsoever other than some peculiar three rod tall pylons staggered in equal great lengths toward the Hill of Summoning, like some gigantic board game.
The giant condor riders kept circling.
An hour later Azurth and Aeoroax returned.
“Ah, I see you’ve made good time covering quite a bit of terrain since I left you, splendid.” Azurth seemed pleased.
A chorus of Dreanu battle horns and drums erupted behind Theran in the distance.
“I see our time runs short,” Azurth said as he reached for Theran’s hand.
Theran paused, and listened again.
“What are you listening for, lad?” Azurth asked.
Theran smiled. “My people sent three armies after us, I can only hear two, and the splintered remnants of a third.”
“Ah, good, then. Brave Jihan kept his word and bloodied them well.” Azurth drew his sword, chanting, and let loose a bolt of blue flame high into the sky, not high enough to affect the high above Dreanu giant condor riders, but spectacular enough to be seen for miles around. “Let them march to their doom, then, we are unafraid.” And at that Theran and Azurth flew back to the Hill of Summoning.
“What are those tall pylons for?” Theran asked halfway there, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.
Azurth gave out a soft, knowing chuckle. “They’re range markers, lad, range markers.”
Soon they landed, and a small troop of squires met them; two to take Aeorex away, one to take Azurth’s great helm, another his aerial equipment, one to thrust a scroll into the mighty warrior mage’s gauntleted hands, and another to run off up The Hill of Summoning ahead of them.
“Ah, good,” Azurth said, handing the scroll back to the bowing squire who then also ran up ahead. “We’re all here and at full strength.”
“Full strength?” questioned Theran.
“Aye. And then some,” Azurth smiled.
“Meaning?” asked Theran, confused.
Azurth pointed at what Theran thought were two large statues before, and then the young man gasped.
“Grand Magus Mekron did not bring just one Land’s Edge Colossus, he brought two.”
“Theran!” a female voice rang out.
The young man turned to find Iriana approaching with two maiden attendants of her own, now washed up and wearing a new soft blue robe embroidered in gold cloud patterns.
“Lord Azurth was kind enough to allow me to refresh a bit before meeting the other wizards while his scribes took my dictation of the past events. I am so glad to see you!” Iriana smiled brightly at the young Dreanu.
Theran gulped. Under all of that simple peasant dress, sweat, and dirt stood a radiant, beaming Iriana. She would never appear in his eyes as a mere slip of a girl ever again.
“Good, lass, join us. The others are informed of what needs doing, now for quick introduction, and the telling of your role in the upcoming battle…”
“M-my role?” Iriana asked.
“Oh, yes, my dear, quite.” Azurth smiled at her. “A Cloud Caller wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Soon they reached the meeting place known as Wizard’s Circle. As they climbed the imposing hill, the two young ones noticed four other older men in robes watching them from atop, all clutching staves and looking quite somber within an ancient henge of stones. Theran and Iriana continued on, unafraid. Once they reached the top, they stood before the other wizards as Azurth went ahead and took his place among them.
“Speak,” ancient Corpen said, a distant tone in his voice.
“I am Theran, formerly of the Dreanu, and this is Iriana, the last of the Cloud Callers. We were sent by Jihan, and he asks that you protect his daughter from the army of Dreanu that approach from the east.”
“His … daughter?” long bearded Corpen asked, blinking.
Fervin the Fat gave a knowing “I-told-you-so” cough.
“Jihan told me before we left him. He said he would stall them, but it would be up to you to defend her from them.” Theran stared into Iriana’s tearful eyes. “I am sorry I did not tell you before. He asked me to get you safely here, and I was afraid you would want to run off and try to help him. There is too much at stake, and he knew it.”
Azurth stepped forward. “Theran and I can tell that he fought bravely, lass, and gave it his best effort and then some. He died a hero, and more importantly, as a loving, dutiful father. Had he told you earlier what he had planned, you would not have let him go. He did the right thing.”
“Aye,” added Thuvalius, “that he did. He has brought great honor to our order, and we, in turn, shall honor him after this is over.”
The other arch mages nodded in agreement.
“Hear, hear,” said Fervin the Fat.
She saw the truth in Azurth’s words, and she agreed. She knew, after losing her mother, she would have fought to keep her father. Tears ran down her face, but she accepted it. She was now an orphan, but one who had finally grasped the full potential of her powers.
Five wizards, a Dreanu scout, and the last Cloud Caller stood atop of the large hill, waiting for the attack.
Fervin the Fat called upon a low, rolling cloud bank, and set up other defenses unseen.
Azurth, after a quick consultation with the others, went back down the hill and remounted the rested and fed Aeorax, along with ten other assembled griffin riders. His task was to deal with the giant condor riders and any other aerial threats, clearing the skies so he could unleash his full wizardly might from above and behind.
The Grand Magus Mekron marched his Colossi to a large pile of boulders, placing various enhancing enchantments on them all the while. They were to bombard the Dreanu once they were well within range of a series of range markers and then wade directly into the battle after “softening” the invaders up a bit.
Aged Corpen began concentrating on a series of elaborate transmutation spells he had placed in motion hours earlier, some placed on the tall, strange pylons, others on the field of battle itself, powerful spells concerning sprouting thorn bushes and choking spore flowers from seeming nothingness, giant entangling vines, and other assorted nastiness designed to contain, impede, disable, and disrupt their foes.
Various knights, squires, archers, and other troops took their defensive positions. They, too, took special heed of various tactics involving the range markers.
Iriana turned to the wizened high priest mage Thuvalius. “And you, honored sir, what is your role in the upcoming battle?”
“Why, my dear,” he said, smiling, “I am here to assist our secret weapon, the most integral part of our battle plan.”
“Who can that be, your holiness?” she asked, respectively.
“You, my child, you.” He motioned her to stand in the middle of the ancient henge of stones. “You will be the focal point of some of the mightiest magicks our world has ever seen, for today you are not only just a Cloud Caller, but a Storm Caller as well.”
Theran left to join the troops below, hoping his knowledge of Dreanu battle tactics may prove some use to the commanders there, and Thuvalius patiently, yet assertively, prepared Iriana for her daunting task. His soothing words gripped the core of her, being as he guided her through what needed to be done, and, along with Jihan’s earlier training, her eyes could see the energies swirling about her, the elements of the sky soon to be at her full command.
Thuvalius was qu
ite pleased.
The tuckets sounded, and the battle commenced. The Dreanu came within range, and the full fury of the Order of Six was unleashed. Giant condor riders fell spiraling and aflame from the sky, dense fog obscured the enemy archers and ground troops, tons of rock flew and crashed amongst their hapless numbers, toppling them like bowling pins, and eldritch sparks erupted and other magical phenomena sprang forth, engulfing Dreanu soldier and dreaded war-beast alike.
It was Iriana’s turn.
Iriana raised her hands to the sky, crying in awed wonder and singing at the same time, and filling the air with dark, angry clouds. She was ready to face the army of Dreanu that wished to control her, or kill her, her heart full with love for her parents, her mind–not that of a child–all doubts and fears in her abilities vanished like a morning mist.
She embraced her destiny.
Thuvalius nodded.
Iriana unleashed her power.
The storms did her bidding and her fury was awesome to behold. The clouds swirled at the command of her finger tips, the rain poured with the strength of her song, and lightning struck the foes that approached her. Gusts of wind were hers to control, and many times she assisted Theran in battle by throwing his enemy to the ground with strong currents.
The wizards around her guarded her from direct attacks, but were also in awe and amazement of her true power. Iriana was stronger than her mother, and more powerful than any Cloud Caller the wizards had seen.
Soon thereafter, the battle was won and the enemy routed. A handful of survivors headed back to their masters to tell their tale of woe and misery. The young woman who bested their warriors could not be imprisoned nor controlled.
Iriana’s new life had begun.
THE END
