Mage Assassin

by Logan Jacobs

  Estate versus estate. Class versus class. Race versus race.

  They never truly wanted to join forces. There was too much malice, and too long a history between them all. So, competition was the best means of accomplishing anything.

  It also meant my business was always in demand, so I couldn’t really fault the system.

  “Furthermore,” the king continued now that he had everyone’s attention. “I am offering one of the most rare and magical staves in my collection. Consider it a reward to any house who subdues the situation entirely. Let it be yours to wield freely.”

  And that sealed the deal.

  The hall was all conversation now, and ideas seemed to spew from every mouth about how this titan might be beat.

  I listened to them all fighting about their best ideas to stop the fires, but I knew none of them were going to be effective enough to actually fight the titan. If they had seen the ember fields for themselves, or felt Cinis’ powers, they would have realized that fire ran through the blood of every being in the Ardere. Ignis’ followers all would have trained with it as well, and they wouldn’t succumb to the pathetic antics being tossed around the assembly hall.

  I couldn’t help shaking my head at the sudden change in the atmosphere, either. The entire council had gone from being annoyed with the king, to trying to show each other up for him, and I rose from my seat as the nonsense continued.

  The king knew what he was doing.

  I couldn’t stand watching the squabbles of the council anymore, so I headed to the double doors. Even in such dire moments, every magical entity still needed to be seen as the most impressive, the most vital, and the most honorable in Ocadia.

  But honor wasn’t about a title or the king’s approval. It was about doing what was right, with no strings attached, and I could see through their calloused ways.

  Unfortunately, I could do nothing for them.

  I couldn’t tell them exactly what was happening because it would mean not only blowing my cover, but also telling them of Cinis. I knew the beautiful descendant would be blamed for all of this if they found out what had happened, and I couldn’t allow it. Not when I knew it was Cinis who wanted peace for the Ardere. I also couldn’t afford to have the whole kingdom know of the rare power I possessed, so the truth of the situation was best kept to myself.

  I thought about the Master, and how he told me only I could have handled the task of going to the Ardere. Then I thought about the binding symbol he’d bestowed on me. The Master had the utmost faith in my abilities, and the task he gave me at the Ardere of Ignis was my responsibility now.

  I had every intention of handling it.

  “Druid!” the king suddenly called to me, and I paused at the double doors. “Where are you going? This council is not dismissed!”

  I didn’t dare turn back around. The hall had started to quiet, and I could almost feel the eyes of the advisors on my back. So, I stood still with my back to them all as I took a steadying breath.

  “I value things greater than a prize,” I announced in my borrowed voice. “I value the livelihoods of the citizens who live within the kingdom. It is my job to heal, and now, I shall go and see how to heal this land.”

  “Hmm… well spoken, Druid,” the king replied. “I expect the rest of you to go and do the same.”

  The guards swung the doors open ahead of me, and I strolled down the red carpet and toward the castle entrance. Then the next set of doors parted, and I was greeted with the throng of beings still clamoring up the stairs. The guards barred their advances while I shoved my way through, and I kept my head down as I wormed through the endless crowd.

  “What’s happening, Druid?” A tiny sylph shot through the air and whispered into my ear. “Are we all going to die?”

  “No, we are not,” I responded, and I didn’t say more.

  I couldn’t stop bumping into people in this crowd of spectators, and second by second, I could feel my powers beginning to respond. Too many people’s hands or arms were brushing against fingertips, and my next mirror would force itself on me if I didn’t get out of here soon.

  Then cheers erupted all over the grounds.

  “My subjects!” the king’s voice boomed from the castle entrance. “Fear not! Ocadia is in good hands!”

  “It is,” I said with a smirk. “Just as soon as I gain some intel on how to kill a fire titan.”

  Chapter 10

  I got out of the crowd just in time.

  My next mirror was shivering under the surface of my skin, and I ran toward a building on the left and ducked behind the back wall. I couldn’t choose a safer area because I didn’t have the time. Second mirrors were hard for me, and I still hadn’t learned to resist them like I could with the first mirror.

  The prickling feeling in my skin was twice as intense as usual, and the shift happened twice as fast. I had no idea who I was shifting into, but the process had already begun, and my figure abruptly shrank. I was aching like an old man again, but my gnarled fingers were those of an elderly woman, and I sighed heavily at the sight.

  Then I closed my eyes and focused all of my attention on my powers. I couldn’t even recall the feeling of being the druid anymore, and I’d lost all ability to mirror that form now that my second shift had been forced. I made my magic mirror back into my true form instead, and when I stood up as Dex Morgan again, my druid robe was far too big. It bagged around my waist, and folds of fabric fell over my boots.

  I hastily took it off so I was in my normal beige tunic and pants again, and then I rolled the garment up in a small bundle and shoved it underneath my arm. Once I was back to my normal self, I started running back to the alchemist’s shop in the town centre. I bypassed the crowds by cutting through the derelict stall area again, and then through the back passageways of the buildings. It only took me five minutes to reach the building in question, and I poked my head through the door to check if Xerzor was still there.

  The inside of the building was made up of one big room. It didn’t have much to offer apart from a pair of chairs with an iron table to the left, and a workshop bench at the back of the room. The alchemist stood behind the bench while over twenty shelves of vials and ingredients lined the wall behind him.

  Xerzor wore a loose tunic with a domed collar, and the bat-winged sleeves billowed down his sides. He had tied a knot into the end of his thinning beard so it wouldn’t drop in any of his potions, and the few loose strands of hair that still clung to the top of his head fell freely around his shoulders.

  Xerzor raised his head to look at me, and then a huge grin appeared on his face as he beckoned me inside.

  “Ah, Dex,” he said. “I thought you’d be longer.”

  “They can all be such sycophants,” I said and rolled my eyes. “I had to get out of there. I heard enough.”

  “So, I guess this means you went to the castle?” he chuckled.

  “Yes, for the assembly,” I sighed.

  It was easy speaking openly with the alchemist because I had known him for so long. He was like another trainer to me, and even though he didn’t say much, his presence was soothing.

  The alchemist was working on an herb mixture as he nodded and smiled a bit, and he rolled his hands around some of the dry spices that laid on the table as he talked. Now and then he lifted his head up to look at me directly, but he kept most of his concentration on his ingredients.

  “Did you see any of my alchemists arrive?” he asked as he stood over the unconscious body of the druid, and he dusted some of the loose powder on him.

  “I can’t be sure,” I admitted. “I was preoccupied with the debates taking place among the advisors, and I didn’t stay until the very end. Just until the King tried to buy the council with riches for helping him, and then he went out to assure the kingdom all was just fine.”

  “Buy the council?” he repeated.

  “Bribe, buy, entice… whatever,” I responded. “The council was rowdy, and the more they talked, the more they co
nvinced themselves that the end of the world was nearing. Someone mentioned something about a war, and that just caused more chaos, and you know what people are like when they think they’re going to die.”

  “So, he offered them a reward to settle?” Xerzor asked.

  “I wouldn’t say to settle,” I said. “I think it was more because nobody was coming up with any good suggestions to combat the fires.”

  “I see,” the alchemist huffed. “So, what was offered?”

  “I can’t remember exactly,” I admitted. “Something to do with being hailed all over the kingdom and a fancy staff.”

  “Well, that should keep them focused.” Xerzor smirked and walked back to his work bench to work on his project.

  “The offer shut them up straight away,” I chuckled. “But I left before I could hear anymore, and by then, the spectators outside had doubled in number. You know what I’m like when I brush against people during a mirror.”

  “Did you change right there in the open?” The alchemist frowned.

  “No, I made it away in time,” I assured him, and Xerzor nodded with relief.

  “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter whether my alchemists made it to the assembly,” Xerzor sighed. “I suspected the council wouldn’t come to a proper solution.”

  “Yes,” I muttered as I considered the lolling druid’s body. Then I shot the alchemist a look. “Is he…”

  “He’s still alive,” Xerzor chuckled. “I just gave him something to help him sleep longer. He should wake up in an hour or so.”

  “Good, but I’ve come here for more than to just return his robes.”

  “First, you need to tell me what the king said exactly,” he replied as he picked a glass vial from the wall behind him. “It’ll be hours before I return to the estate, and I hate waiting for news.”

  Then the alchemist moved to the counter near the side of the room, where he shook out the contents from the vial. Something that resembled crushed purple flower petals fell from the small bottle, but the smell was putrid, and I had to cup my hand over my mouth. He pushed the cork back on the top of the container and then placed it back on the shelf and picked out another one.

  “The king said he believes it’s the fire titan, Ignis,” I told him.

  “Ignis?” he quizzed. “Why would Ignis want anything to do with us?”

  It surprised me that the alchemist didn’t even flinch when he heard the news, Apparently, he was among those who knew the tales of Ignis were more than just a folklore, and I answered him in full because I wanted to try and see if any of this was news to him, or if he knew about the Ardere all along.

  “Well… it turns out Ignis actually lives near the Kingdom of Ocadia,” I stated. “But he lives in a place called the Ardere of Ignis, just within the forest, and the king thinks he’s gotten bored with not causing a riot.”

  “Well, you know what the gods can be like.” The alchemist rolled his eyes, and he seemed more dismissive than surprised. “Former gods are even more annoying.”

  “Hmm.” I nodded. “Anyway, the king believes Ignis may end up starting a war with us. He thinks it’s only somewhat likely, but I’m inclined to think it’s… pretty likely.”

  The alchemist looked up from his station and stared at me like he knew I was leaving out some news, and he raised his eyebrows.

  “And?” Xerzor led.

  “And…” I trailed. “This is also why I have come to speak to you.”

  “Dex, I know you have something to do with this, so let’s not be so trivial about everything,” the alchemist softly said, but it still felt like he was telling me off. “There’s no point in me asking what influence you’ve had on this fire, because your Master has trained you too well to answer. So, you might as well just ask me what you want to know.”

  “Do you know about titans?” I asked.

  “Of course.” He smiled. “I have been around for many years, and I have a lot of experience, and although I have never defeated a titan before, I have interacted with a few. I have also read some books and talked to some people in the past surrounding those wild creatures.”

  “Can you tell me the secrets you’ve learned?” I asked. “About the fire titans?”

  The alchemist got another vial from behind him and mixed the dry contents together. He was awfully calm considering the situation that was arising.

  “I suppose,” he said after a moment. “They have a lengthy history, though, so what is it you would like to know?”

  “Mostly, I need to know how to kill them,” I admitted outright, “or at least, how to debilitate them.”

  Now, the calm alchemist paused in his work, and his eyes flicked up to mine. I kept a completely unreadable expression on my face, but I could have sworn I saw a flicker of a smirk on Xerzor’s aged lips. Then he slowly continued his work.

  “Well… the most important thing to remember is that not all fire entities are worth killing,” he started. “There are still elemental fire mages, and a whole plethora of fire entities exist, so when you say ‘them,’ what you mean is Ignis. No one else should be hurt in any of this.”

  “What if his followers retaliate?” I asked. “Cin… I mean, I’ve heard they just do whatever Ignis tells them to do.”

  The alchemist must have caught me stuttering, and he raised his eyes to quickly glance at me again before he focused back on his job.

  “They are only following Ignis because they’re forced to remain under his rule,” Xerzor explained. “It’s a dictatorship in the Ardere, and once they are rid of him, they won’t cause any troubles.”

  I nodded in understanding, and I recalled Cinis’ words about peace for the Ardere. Maybe if I could work out how to contain Ignis, then she’d find herself less of an outcast in her homeland. Maybe the rest of the fire entities would be as relieved as her.

  “There will be no other deaths, just Ignis,” I confirmed. “So, how do I kill him?”

  “Well, there’s one thing you need to know before killing a fire titan.” He smiled. “Which I could have told the council if I were at the assembly.”

  “Would you have told them?” I asked and furrowed my brow.

  “Probably not,” Xerzor sighed. “I despise their bickering.”

  “Well, what is your great secret, then?” I pressed.

  “Titans can’t be killed with mortal weapons,” he said and mixed the herbs together with his hands. “They can go up against a thousand swords, a thousand arrows, a thousand anything, but it wouldn’t even so much as hurt them, unless they have been magically tainted.”

  “Just any tainted weapon?” I asked. “Surely that’s fine, considering most creatures around here would taint their weapons before striking anyway.”

  “It’s not as easy as you think it is,” the alchemist returned.

  “Has anyone managed it ever?”

  “Of course, they have.” Xerzor nodded. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here before you and telling you it is the only way to kill them.”

  “Which titan was killed?” I asked.

  I knew I didn’t have much time to hear the history of war, but I figured if I could gain more intel, then it would help in my next mission.

  “Syros,” the alchemist answered.

  “I’ve never heard of him,” I replied. “He was a titan?”

  “Yes, and there is a reason you have never heard of him,” the alchemist laughed. “It’s because he was defeated many centuries ago. His name has been lost among the stars and forgotten within the land.”

  “What happened?” I implored.

  “Well.” Xerzor drew a deep breath. “Syros is now the forgotten son of Uranus and Gaia, but when he was alive, he was willing to do anything for power. When you have siblings like Cronus, and Hyperion, I guess it’s easy to be overshadowed.”

  “What was his legacy?” I asked. “You know, before it was forgotten.”

  “He wasn’t in charge of anything in particular,” the alchemist laughed. “That was the pr
oblem. So, he decided to try and take over the role as harvest god.”

  “So, he battled with his brother, Cronus?” I replied. “He’s the Titan of Harvest, yes?”

  “You’re right.” Xerzor nodded. “Cronus didn’t want to battle his brother because their strengths didn’t align, so he allowed Syros to watch over Ocadia, and some surrounding kingdoms. But Syros wasn’t cut out for the job, and his recklessness meant that many centuries ago, crops stopped growing altogether. This was before the queen had brought everyone together, so we all lived in our segregated areas. Of course, this meant many died as a result, so some of the land dwellers decided to do something about Syros’ incompetence. They went to war with him.”

  “And?” I pressed.

  “And it was hard,” the alchemist admitted. “Because although it was the first time the estates had worked toward the same cause, they didn’t know what powers each of them had. The humans were the first to fall, then the less powerful entities, but eventually, they learned how to manage it.”

  “And they killed Syros?” I finished.

  “Exactly.” The man smiled. “With a very precise selection of magical weapons, the titan fell. I don’t think his family even cared at all to hear the news of his passing, but… well, you know what the gods are like.”

  That was a sentence I’d heard a lot in my life, but the truth was, I didn’t know what the titans or gods were like. Being a rare magical entity meant I had no clear idea of which gods I was expected to communicate with. Then there was Ignis who’d tricked me into almost flooding the kingdom, and then there was Cinis. The Ember Priestess wasn’t a true titan, but she was the closest I’d ever gotten to a goddess. From what I’d seen so far, she was unbelievably beautiful, powerful, somewhat hotheaded, impulsive, and surprisingly insightful.

  Basically, she was completely beyond my comprehension at the moment.

  And I couldn’t lie to myself about how attracted I was to her fire.

  “Why doesn’t anyone talk about Syros?” I asked.

  “Because after his demise the people were scared the titans would want revenge, so they swore to never speak of it again,” Xerzor revealed. “Of course, there’s always someone who tells, which is how I know of it all, but those who fought and survived are dead now, and so are most of the stories.”