The Wizard's Council

by Cody J. Sherer

  “I have envisioned this very conquest since the time of our defeat under Cid’s leadership. What was then a rich land has only grown more fruitful. The Witches have stolen the land’s bounty for their own horrible desires. This land has great potential, and we must see to it that it lives up to that potential. Not only will we remove the Witches’ taint from this land, we will also set up another stronghold dedicated to the Creator,” Gareth replied.

  “Yours is a vision of greatness for our people. It is refreshing to see that you are willing to take the necessary steps to see to it that the Holy Order is stronger and able to crush the darkness with ease. Our people will continue to prosper under your leadership, and as a result, the entire land will prosper with us.”

  The Grand Crusader nodded, unsure of his companion’s intent. He had no time to discuss the matter. Seeing the outpost in the distance, Gareth raised his hand. His men slowed to his pace and drew their weapons. If we can see them, then they can surely see us, he thought as he continued down the path. There were two guards on the outer wall of the small fort. Gareth instantly recognized them as Cursed Ones. Born of the Witches, yet unable to perform magic, the Cursed Ones were trained to fight unto death to protect the Witches. A fight with the Cursed Ones only held two possible outcomes. It was only a matter of who died first.

  “Has the Holy Order returned for more punishment after all these years?” The Cursed Leader called out.

  “The Witches’ stench has festered in this valley for far too long. We will cleanse it by fire!” Bartholomew yelled raising his hands into the air. Massive fireballs began to rain down upon the wooden outpost, catching it on fire instantly. The Cursed Ones attempted a retaliatory assault, but were cut down by the archers of the Holy Order. Bartholomew smiled as the outpost collapsed in on itself from the fire damage. He relished the thought of bringing such destruction to the Witches and their brood. Gareth eyed his friend warily. It was a side of the Grand Cleric that he had not seen before. Killing was sometimes a necessity, but what they had just done was a massacre. Let us hope that we do not lose our humanity in slaying these beasts, Gareth thought as he surveyed his army.

  *

  “Why haven’t they reported back?” Ector asked, pacing back and forth.

  “Is it possible that someone is interfering with their means of communication?” Thanos asked, somewhat worried by the smoke rising from the other side of the Telmac Valley.

  “They are both accomplished Wizards, all they need is access to a Conclave. It isn’t too far of a stretch for them to be preoccupied by something though,” James said.

  “What of Leon and Cormac? Neither of them is present either.” Melissa seemed annoyed.

  “Please, one at a time. This is a crucial time for us. Carmalia remains besieged, and we need assistance, not questions,” Rolin stroked his beard as he spoke.

  “Cormac made it to the dwarven halls, that much I am certain of. My scouts tell me that he may have taken to the front lines against the orcs. I will send an emissary to the dwarves to confirm this. As for Leon, the King often asks to be accompanied to many various meetings.” Ector did his best to defuse the tension.

  “Thanos, are you able to muster an army and come to our assistance?” James asked.

  “Unfortunately, no. The Witches of Telmac appear to be under attack, which can mean only one thing. Our friends at the Holy Order decided to purge the Witches on their way to visit the Necromancers. We will likely get caught in that fray.” Thanos held up his skeletal hand for all to see.

  “Ector, please tell me you have better news,” James said, looking to the elf.

  “I’m afraid I do not. If we can get the dwarves to agree to joint attacks on the orcs, then we might be able to defeat them in a month’s time. Although that does seem to be pushing it for you.”

  “The Galimdorians do not seem to be as aggressive as we first expected. It is possible that they have been informed of Emily’s absence and are hesitant to continue the attack without using her as a scapegoat. We may be able to hold out for a month.” Rolin’s attempt at optimism refreshed all gathered, except Paul.

  He was pacing back and forth trying to come up with a way to get them out of their predicament. They just had to send off Emily, he thought as he tried to ignore the Council. Emily was the only one who seemed to care about anything other than his magical prowess. His mind wandered from his predicament to Emily. Why haven’t they contacted us? Paul wondered. The concept of asking for assistance seemed useless to Paul. Cardinia and Sardinia were the only kingdoms that seemed to be able to help, but they were difficult to contact. Leon was nowhere to be found, and none of Melissa’s students had mastered long-distance communication spells.

  “It seems we are going to need to rely on ourselves for this,” Paul said as he sat down with the other Wizards.

  “I’m afraid Paul might be correct. If we can get a message to the other kingdoms, they may send reinforcements.” Rolin sighed as he accepted the fact that they were on their own.

  “How can we get past the Galimdorian? Are we just going to fly over them?” James asked.

  “I’ll take care of that, I just need a volunteer or two.” Rolin rose from his chair with a renewed determination.

  “Paul and I can handle it.” James rose and nodded at Paul.

  “The two of you need to come with me. Everyone else needs to keep on the watch for Emily or Janessa.” Rolin motioned for the two volunteers to follow him.

  The three of them exited the war room and took off down the hall. Several Carmalian soldiers were milling about as they walked through the castle. Rolin whispered something to each one they passed as he led the other two Wizards into a small room that had been converted into a library. He began to rummage through the books until he came to a large tome at the bottom of a stack of books. Carefully and slowly, he brushed the dust off the cover before placing it on the desk. He began to flip through the pages.

  “There it is!” He pointed at the page.

  “Teleportation? Is that even possible?” James asked.

  “I’ve heard of two instances in recent years, both included a group sending one or two people.”

  “We have to try,” Paul said.

  Rolin nodded and closed the book. He grabbed James and Paul by their shoulders and prodded them toward the door. The three headed up a flight of stairs up to the top of the keep. Rolin glanced over his shoulder several times as if annoyed by their speed. They came up through the trapdoor at the top of the stairs and looked out over the wall. Paul thought he could make out the silhouettes of the Galimdorians along the outer wall of the castle. The wind picked up as they gathered at the top of the keep to prepare the spell. James and Rolin began to argue about the spell, leaving Paul confused.

  “We did this before at the conclave, why is this any different?” Paul asked.

  “The Conclaves are magically charged, making spells significantly easier to cast,” Rolin replied.

  James nodded and took up his spot at the center of the keep’s roof. Paul took the spot near the center, and they both waited for Rolin. The elderly Archwizard was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself while reading the book. Seems like a simple spell, Paul thought, why all the fuss? Rolin turned to James and the two stared at each other for a few minutes. There was no indication of it from Rolin, but the slight change in James’ expression made Paul wonder if they were communicating telepathically. He had heard stories of mages communicating thusly, but had never experienced it. James appeared to be getting rather annoyed with Rolin.

  “Enough!” Rolin yelled, “Get into position and we’ll start the spell.”

  Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on the location they had agreed upon earlier. Hearing movement to his left, he opened his eyes and saw James take a step away from him. He panicked and took a step toward James. His foot landed on something soft with a slight crunch. Darkness began to close around him as he stared at his foot, which was partially i
nside of one of the stones atop the keep. He took two more steps, now completely surrounded by darkness. The first step was soft and crunchy, but the second step wet. Light began to return, and he saw a beach off in the distance. His world began to spin as the beach got closer. Instinctively, he stepped backward. He tripped over a rock and landed on the sand of the beach.

  “My apologies for the misdirection.” He heard Rolin’s voice, but the Wizard was nowhere to be found.

  “We don’t have time to explain it to him, old friend.” James too, could be heard but not seen.

  “Indeed. Paul, it is imperative that you find Janessa and Emily. Tell them we are proceeding with plan B.”

  Paul was about to ask a question when he felt a tug on the back of his shirt. He turned to see a small boy, eight years of age at the oldest. His skin was pale, like Janessa’s skin tone, but his hair was jet black. Paul could see the rest of his family approaching from afar. They were just as pale as the boy, only none of them had black hair. There were five of them in all, two boys, one girl, and the two parents. The kid with the black hair was the least timid. Each of his siblings stopped when they reached the sand. Their blond hair was not the only thing that differentiated them from their brother. The rest of the family had less pronounced features.

  “Corvath, stay away from the stranger!” The boy’s father yelled.

  “He’s a mage, I saw appear out of nowhere,” one of the other children said.

  “I assure you that I mean no harm to you and your family. I was sent here to find two of my order,” Paul said.

  “Tell us their names and we will send you on your way.” The boy’s mother placed her hands on his shoulders and began to slowly walk him away from Paul.

  “One is named Emily, though you probably do not know her. The other is Janessa, she is from the Gloomvale Isles.” Paul stood up.

  “Janessa, Daughter of Gloomvale?” She asked.

  “I know not what that means, but she is a powerful Wizard of our order. In fact, she is the Archwizard of the Gloomvale Conclave.”

  “Any friend of Janessa is a friend of ours. Come, we will take you to our town. From there, we will direct you to the Conclave. Keep your wits about you, pirates have been on the move of late,” The father spoke as though he had encountered the pirates before.

  Paul thanked them for their generosity and followed them from the beach into the open plains. Both sides had many questions for each other. Paul, having never left the continent, inquired about island life and the Gloomvale governing bodies. They explained to him how the Isles were ruled, not by royal line, but by appointed Protectors known as the Sons and Daughters of Gloomvale. The Gloomvale citizens ruled themselves, looking to the Protectors only in times of war and strife. Janessa was the only current Protector as the islanders couldn’t agree on any of the other candidates. Paul was asked questions about magic. He explained what little he knew of it. Less powerful mages use staves, wands, and words, while more powerful ones used their palms. He told stories of the magicians of old who cast powerful spells with thought alone. When pressed about obtaining a power like that, he merely shrugged.

  “I’ve heard that strength of will creates unbreakable spells,” The black-haired child said.

  “It is possible, young one. I have not the formal training Janessa has nor the knowledge that Emily has, your questions are better served being aimed at one of them,” Paul replied.

  Everyone fell silent as they came within sight of the town. The normally peaceful town was partially ablaze. A foreign looking ship was docked in the harbor, and the flames were worse around the docks than the rest of the town. Paul gritted his teeth and quickened his pace. The others moved to match his pace, but he held up his hand to tell them to stop. He took a deep breath before changing forms. His jaw began to jut out along with his nose, and his entire body became elongated. The others gasped as he shifted into a wolf. It was larger than average due to his frustration and drive. Corvath watched in awe as Paul in wolf form bounded through the countryside with ease. He traveled significantly faster in wolf form and arrived in town within minutes. He tackled one of the attackers to the floor before morphing back into a man. Pirates, he thought as he drove his sword into the downed opponent. Three more arrived on the scene to find a fallen comrade and a stranger with a bloodstained sword.

  Paul grinned at the newcomers, still looking somewhat wolf-like, and prepared for their assault. They paused a moment before taking a few steps toward him. He laughed as he lifted his left hand. If they are afraid now, just wait until they get a taste of my magic, he thought. One of the three stepped forward and was met with a bolt of lightning. He crumpled to the floor as Paul closed in on the other two. Paul slashed low and away, knocking one pirate’s sword aside. He quickly brought his sword up to block a diagonal strike from the other opponent. The armed pirate, slightly taken off guard by the speed of the block, took a step backward. Paul stepped forward after him, parrying a blow from the pirate who had just recovered his sword. Shouting could be heard in the background as Paul launched his attack. His sword crackled as it smacked from one pirate sword to the other, sending a shock through each pirate. The Wizard dispatched the scoundrel on his right before turning to face the other.

  “Mangy cur!” A voice came from a street behind the remaining pirate.

  “Fight me like a man, you sea spawned peanut brain!” Came another voice.

  “I’d fight ya like a man, but you’d have to know what one is first.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve not heard such a weak battle of words in all my days!” Paul called out as he pulled his sword from the gut of the last of the three pirates.

  Two silhouettes danced in the darkness as Paul approached. Neither appeared to be a master swordsman, but both were more skilled than any of the pirates he had just dispatched. He created a small ball of light in his free hand and then sent it forth to illuminate the two combatants. One was significantly larger than the other. He wore a pirate’s coat and pants along with a worn out captain’s hat. His hair was black with speckles of gray in it. The other man was significantly younger, blond haired, and was wearing chainmail. They continued trading jabs as they flailed at each other wildly. Paul moved the ball of light in between them and enlarged it, interrupting their fight. They both turned to face Paul. Both stood unsure of their opponent as they tried to size up the newcomer. Paul shook his head, thinking them both fools.

  “Identify yourself!” The younger man said, nearly yelling.

  Paul chuckled as he turned toward the pirate. He lunged forward with his sword, and the pirate parried the blow. The Wizard attacked again and again was parried. His eyes narrowed as the pirate mounted a counterattack. He blocked the blow and then kicked his opponent’s knee. As the pirate staggered backward, Paul lunged at him, stabbing him in the chest. The younger man stepped forward to challenge Paul. With a sigh, Paul shook his head and sheathed his sword. He dodged two attacks before punching the stranger’s sword arm. The man grunted, but did not stop his assault. Paul dodged several times, using magic to augment his speed. After six failed attacks, Paul finally made his move. He dodged to the side and then side-stepped to within hitting range. His fist shot out with such speed that the youth couldn’t even attempt to mount a defense.

  “That man was toying with you and I found little difficulty in besting him. Are you sure you want to continue on the path you’ve chosen?” Paul asked as his hand slid down to his sword.

  “I’ll fight anyone who seeks to harm my village or its people, no matter how outmatched I may be,” The younger man was still holding his side as he spoke.

  “If I intended harm upon your village, you’d be dead in his place.” Paul motioned toward the dead pirate captain.

  “Your logic is sound, but how do I know that I can trust you?”

  “You don’t, not any more or less than I know I can trust you, but we have to take a chance now and again. My name is Paul.” Paul extended his hand.

 
“I suppose you are right. I am Samuel.” The young man sheathed his sword before shaking Paul’s hand.

  “Well met. Tell me of your troubles with the pirates.”

  “They don’t usually attack any of the towns. Not like this anyway. Janessa has always seen them out of town when they try. Things have gotten a bit ugly in her absence, almost as if they knew she’d be gone for over a month. Word has it she was spotted on one of the outer isles yesterday. I guess the pirates didn’t hear that.” Sam forced a chuckle, “They never attacked three towns in two days before. I reckon they’re up to something.” Samuel looked as though he were ready to tell the entire history of the Gloomvale Isles.

  “I’ll help in whatever way I can so long as it doesn’t slow getting to Janessa.” Paul spoke before Sam could start in about anything else.

  “You know Janessa?” Samuel’s eyes lit up.

  “Well enough, she and I are Wizards of the same order now. I can’t say I’ve known her long though,” Something about the young man’s demeanor made it easy for Paul to talk to him.

  The two continued their conversation as Samuel led Paul out of town toward the Conclave. There wasn’t a lot for Paul to share with Sam as most of the man’s questions were about Janessa. I must have spent too much time around Wizards, Paul thought as the conversation rolled along. It was the longest conversation he had been a part of since Emily’s departure. He learned that Samuel was no more than twenty years old and that he had attempted to join the militia on three separate occasions. The first time he was rejected due to his youth. On the second try, he was so nervous that he referred to the female drill instructor as “mother.” It was a comment he had never lived down. So shot was his confidence that he failed to make the cut a year later. Paul felt sorry for him in a way. He knew well the difficulties of pursuing the life of a swordsman. Though there seemed to be little difference in the difficulties of pursuing magical knowledge, Paul knew he’d never reach the pinnacle of either unless he chose between the two. It was a thought that crossed his mind several times, but each time he was unable to choose one over the other.