Death Mage's Fury

by Jon Bender

  Jaxom considered the other mage’s words. Thinking on how his magic had reacted so sluggishly. “Let’s try again.”

  “I hope you are paying attention,” Warin called out to Lexa.

  “I am, but it might be a good idea to go easier on him. You don’t know anything about using a sword,” she said. Warin grunted before returning to where he had been standing.

  Jaxom formed the barrier again only seconds before the coil struck. When Warin changed the direction of attack, the shield was there to meet it. Concentrating, he willed the barrier to follow the path of his hands, intercepting the coil before it could strike him. Another direction change, and he stopped it again if just barely. Warin continued to switch the angle of the attack with Jaxom stopping it every time. Seeing that he was not going to get past him a second time, Warin dropped his hand, letting the coil dissipate.

  “I think you got it,” Warin said.

  Jaxom nodded his agreement while letting the barrier go. “The cast has limitations. It would be easy to become trapped on the defensive,” Jaxom said.

  “Every cast has limitations. I am sure you will find a way to fit it into your technique so that you can overcome them.”

  “Time for sword practice?” Lexa asked, hopefully.

  Warin gave the girl a withering glare, but she smiled back innocently. Looking back to Jaxom, he drew his sword, bringing it before him in a two-handed grip. Jaxom could tell the man had never fought with steel before.

  Moving closer, he placed a hand on the mage’s shoulder and used his foot to guide the other man’s right leg back into a staggered stance. “Balance is key to using the sword. If you lose it, you will fall, and your opponent will win,” Jaxom said. Warin nodded, shifting his weight to find a more comfortable position. “Today, I just want you to become familiar with the weight of the sword, and how it feels when you swing it. When you are able to strike me, we will move on.”

  “I may not know how to use a sword, but if I get lucky, you will still be dead,” Warin said, smirking.

  Unclasping his cloak, Jaxom tossed the cumbersome article to the side, allowing the cold air to swirl around him. He would be warm enough soon, and the cloak would only impede his movement. Raising his palms towards the earth, Jaxom began channeling, calling forth bones from the ground around him. They were deeper than he was accustomed to. The palace grounds were not a common place for living creatures to die, but long ago, many men had died there. Jaxom found them. The bones erupted from the ground, swirling around him as he placed them all over his body. He used the ribs and scapulae of other men and animals to encase his chest, stacking halfway up his neck to protect it while still allowing his head free movement. Longer bones squeezed tightly together to line his arms and legs, with many smaller bones filling the gaps. The back of two skulls settled over the bones already covering his shoulders to form thick pads. Skeletal hands of another man overlaid his own, giving him a gruesome grip. The grinning face of a skull settled itself at the center of his chest, its empty sockets staring at Warin. Jaxom knew that the display was impressive, even terrifying, to an average person. That fear only added to the protection the bone armor gave him. The more dread an opponent felt for you, the more likely he was to hesitate.

  “You aren’t that lucky,” Jaxom said.

  Warin watched the display, his sword dipping slightly. Lexa, who had heard of the armor from Alimar but had never actually seen it, stood with her mouth hanging open. Realizing what she was doing, she snapped it shut and smiled at Warin.

  Warin grunted before bringing his sword back into position. Taking slow steps, the mage advanced as if measuring his opponent and looking for an opening. Jaxom saw right through the ploy, noticing the man’s legs tensing and his grip tightening. Predictably, Warin rushed forward, bringing his sword up and then down with all his strength. Jaxom waited for the second when he was fully committed to step back and to the side. The sword whistled through the space he had just occupied before the tip buried itself in the soft ground. Stepping in close, Jaxom placed a hand on Warin’s shoulder and shoved, sending him sprawling to the ground.

  “Balance is key, Magus,” Jaxom reiterated looking down on him. “Never fully commit to a strike unless you are sure of a killing blow.”

  Jaxom moved away as Warin climbed to his feet, bringing his sword back up into position. This time, the other mage circled to the right, forcing Jaxom to move with him or allow an attack from the side. Lunging forward, Warin slashed, trying to score a hit on his chest. Jaxom stepped back on his right leg, allowing the blade to pass a few inches in front of his chest, then again on his left leg as the other mage stepped forward reversing his blade. Setting his position again, Warin thrust the sword only to have Jaxom move to the side and slap it away with a forearm. Frustrated, Warin brought the sword around in a large arc at chest level. He was not as completely committed as his first attack had been, but enough for Jaxom to rush forward inside the swing. Grabbing Warin at the wrist and elbow, he used the mage’s own momentum to throw him down once more.

  Off to the side, Lexa was trying to suppress a laugh and failing miserably. Warin looked up at her from his place on the ground. “Don’t forget that you have your own training sessions with me, apprentice.” His words held no venom, and though the threat had not been genuine, she still quieted herself, her cheeks showing a slight blush of embarrassment.

  The two men continued the exercise for another fifteen minutes before Warin was too winded to carry on. His arms could barely lift the heavy sword. “It’s just as you were telling Lexa,” Jaxom said. “You will gain strength with time, and the same goes for the sword.”

  The other man nodded, sheathing his sword at his hip. “I don’t remember first learning to control magic being this hard,” he said.

  Up until now, Jaxom had not asked Warin anything about where he had learned to cast or what his history was. Like Alimar, Warin’s past was still a mystery to Jaxom. Alimar never let anything slip about where he had come from. All Jaxom did know was that he had found Terika and had cut a deal to help Or’Keer. In return, the god would help him to restore their school of magic. When he and Jaxom had first met, they had come to their current arrangement. Anything he knew about the man had stemmed from there, but perhaps Warin would be more forthcoming about himself.

  “How did you learn to cast?” Jaxom asked, shedding his bone armor and returning the pieces to the earth. He did not think whoever Celia had employed to care for palace grounds would appreciate him leaving piles of bones around.

  “On my own. I grew up in Trad’eon, spending my time avoiding mages of the other schools and learning to use magic in secret,” he said

  Jaxom picked up his cloak as they walked inside out of the cold. “Are you not due to meet Master Battin, Lexa?” Warin asked once on the other side of the door.

  “We are leaving tomorrow,” she protested. “Is one class so important? I want to hear more about what it was like for you before you came here.”

  Warin consider her request for a moment before nodding. “It would be good for you to know what it was like for us. Then you will understand why what Magus Jaxom and Alimar are doing here is so important,” he said.

  With the matter settled, Jaxom decided to move them to a more comfortable setting. He guided them through the palace, heading for a room Celia had intended for important visitors to relax in comfortable chairs. “So you were hunted by other mages?” Jaxom asked, picking up the conversation.

  “Your brother is far more accepting of us than most other kingdoms. When I first used my magic, I was twelve and living on the streets of Kalis, a city named after the Kalis family,” he said. Jaxom could hear anger creeping into the man’s voice at speaking the name.

  “The Kalis family?” Jaxom asked.

  “They are the ruling family of that area. Trad’eon is not controlled by one family or person, but many. The families constantly skirmish against each other over land or old rivalries, but will band together when
threatened by an outside aggressor. It is how they maintain their sovereignty,” he said.

  “Why were the mages there hunting you?” Lexa asked when they arrived at the sitting room.

  “I took the time to read some of the history here in the palace yesterday. What I learned is that the mages of other schools surrounded this city long ago and destroyed the death mages who lived here. It would seem that hundreds of years have not changed many of their minds about what should be done with us. When they discovered what I was, the mages of Kalis took it upon themselves to hunt me down.”

  Jaxom removed his cloak and placed it over the back of one of the upholstered chairs. When a servant passed by, Jaxom called him in and asked that wine be sent to the room. “How did the other mages discover you?” Jaxom asked.

  “If you had to survive as I did, then there was no choice but to fight to protect what little you had. I was in such fight with a gang of boys who wanted a loaf of bread I had worked for. The three of them attacked and beat me with sticks. I was so afraid they were going to kill me that I cast, not knowing what I was doing. I killed one of the boys with the blight,” he said, regret heavy in his voice. “There were witnesses to what I had done. They did not care about some boys beating up on another, but when I killed one with magic, someone reported it to the mages. They came looking for me. I barely escaped and was forced to hide what I was from that moment on,” Warin finished.

  “How did you learn the casts you know now?” Lexa asked, leaning forward engrossed with his story.

  “As I said, on my own. I experimented with what I could do, trying different things to see if they would work. It took me much longer than it has for you with the benefit of our experience and guidance. I would expect it was much the same for Magus Jaxom and Alimar,” he said. Both looked to Jaxom.

  When Jaxom had first learned of his abilities he had already been taken in by Corin’s father, who had ordered that he be trained. The mage who had been sent was unable to do more than teach him the basics, leaving him to learn the rest on his own. “Yes, I had to teach myself. As you can see, we are still learning from each other.”

  Celia walked through the door with a tray carrying a bottle of wine and four glasses. “Your wine, My Lord,” she said, curtsying. It was an odd sight to see with her wearing pants, and he had not missed the sarcasm in her voice.

  Jaxom had been avoiding her since they had returned, and doing a fair job of it until now. That is what he got for ordering wine instead of getting it himself. She always seemed to know what was going on in the castle. He had let her find out from the others that she would not be going with him to Kelran, and he was sure he was about to pay dearly for that decision. Perhaps he could take a commanding stance and order her obedience as Lord of Terika. Looking into her angry eyes, he decided that drawing breath was preferable.

  “Thank you, Celia, just set it down anywhere. That will be all,” he said and instantly regretted it. Why could he never resist prodding people who were angry with him? Maybe Adriana would know.

  She slammed the tray down so hard that he was surprised none of the glasses broke.

  “I think Lexa and I will go see to our packing. We need to ensure we have the proper clothing for winter travel,” Warin said before making a quick exit with Lexa right behind him. Jaxom thought that maybe he could slip out with them, but decided having Celia chasing and yelling at him was not a dignified way for the lord of Terika to walk around.

  “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about, Celia?”

  “You think you can just leave me here while you go running off to Kelran?” she asked turning around.

  Jaxom let out a sigh. “I know I should have talked to you first, but someone needs to stay here. I don’t trust anyone else to run the city,” he said. If she found out that Corin had ordered him to stay, Jaxom knew his body may never be found.

  “What are you grinning at?” she said. He had been chuckling at the thought without knowing it.

  “I told Corin you run the palace and city anyway. I just do what you say,” he said.

  She stared at him for a long time, as if looking for the lie. “You owe me for this.”

  “Anything you want, within reason” he said, tentatively.

  She considered for a moment before nodding. “I will stay.”

  After sharing a glass of wine with Celia, and discussing the current problems of the city for a short time. Jaxom made his way to the soldier’s barracks within the palace. He had given his word that anytime he went into the city, he would take an escort, and he intended to keep it. Gathering six men to go with him, he and his escort made their way to the stables near the main gate of the palace. In the yard where the horses were saddled, he found Da’san talking to one of the men who worked there. The trip back to the city had been good for their friendship, giving them the opportunity to talk about what the other had missed. Da’san had spent much of that time in the southern part of the kingdom, giving aid to those who had suffered during the invasion.

  The man Da’san was talking to bowed low when Jaxom approached, then stepped away. “I thought you were going to explore the palace,” Jaxom said.

  “I was, but it is not that much different from the one in Ale’adar. I thought it would be good to have a look at your city. I was in the middle of trying to convince the laborers to let me have the use of a horse when you arrived,” he said.

  “I am leaving to check on the soldiers leaving tomorrow. The main barracks is located at the edge of the city. You can come along if you want,” Jaxom said.

  “I will gladly come if you can persuade one of these men to let me borrow a horse. If a priest of Sarinsha cannot convince them, I doubt they will loan one to a man who plays with dead things,” Da’san replied with a smile.

  Jaxom stayed quiet for a moment, trying to come up with a witty retort. Realizing too much time had passed, he gave up on it. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said in defeat. Da’san’s smile widened in victory.

  Da’san had added a thick cloak to his usual blue robes to stave off the chill wind during the ride. The six soldiers of his escort spread out around them, and Jaxom noticed that they too had donned matching black cloaks of their own. He remembered Celia having him sign an order for tailors to begin making winter clothing for the soldiers. When she had spoken to him about it, he had assumed they would be the blue of Corin’s house. Now he had the sinking feeling that she had chosen black to represent the Death Mage School, whose members Jaxom admitted tended to wear black or dark colors. He would have to have a talk with her about that. These men, though sworn to him, were ultimately Corin’s soldiers and should be adorned in his livery.

  “Do you want to know what your people think about you?” Da’san asked.

  “They are not my people, Da’san. They are just people looking for a better life,” Jaxom replied. “Besides, Corin is their king. If they are anyone’s people, they are his.”

  “You have provided homes, food, and protection. Corin is their King, but it is not him they are looking to,” he said sincerely. “Now, do you want to know what they think or not?”

  Jaxom had not spent much time with the common people, so he doubted they thought much of him at all, but he decided to humor his friend. “Fine, but how would you know what they think? You’ve only been here a little over a day.”

  “I spent that day talking to those who work in the palace, people who have family and friends throughout the city,” Da’san said.

  “And you asked them what they thought about their death mage ruler?”

  “Not directly. I simply asked about their lives, but the conversation always came back to you,” he said. “They are thankful for what you have done for them.”

  “They don’t know who I am,” Jaxom said.

  “Not personally, perhaps, but do you think that all the people of Ale’adaria know Corin? Of course not. But they respect him because of what he does. It is the same with those here.”

  Jaxom wa
s pleased to hear that the people were happy with their lives in Terika. Soon, he knew he might be asking them to fight and die to protect what they were building. “Did you learn anything else?”

  “They are worried about what the future holds,” Da’san said.

  Jaxom laughed, startling his friend. “They are worried about the future? We have that in common. All I do is worry.”

  Da’san seemed to relax a little. “You and Corin have done well so far, and I have faith that you will continue to do so.”

  When they reached the outer city, Da’san began watching the people go about their business. As Jaxom and his small party moved along the street, people gave them room to pass unhindered, stopping what they were doing to bow. It was hard to go unnoticed when you had six armored men surrounding you. A woman holding a child about a year old in her arms stepped through the small circle his escort had created around him and Da’san. The soldiers stopped, and the two closest blocked her path while the others looked about the crowd for threats.

  “Let her through,” Jaxom said.

  Surprisingly, it was not Jaxom she approached but Da’san. “Forgive me, Holiness. You are a servant of Sarinsha?” she asked. Jaxom had never heard anyone call a priest Holiness before, and he could not help but smile.

  “Yes, I serve the Goddess Sarinsha,” Da’san replied. His tone solemn.

  “Could you bless my Elise? My husband and I were forced to leave Denra before we could bring her to Sarinsha’s Temple, and we have not seen one of her servants since.”

  Da’san looked down at the women with compassion. “Of course,” he said lowering his hand to the child’s forehead. He began to chant, and Jaxom could feel a slight vibration in the air as he prayed to his Goddess. When he had finished, the child began to cry as her mother whispered comforting words to her.

  “Thank you, Holiness,” she said, stepping away.

  More people came forward after that, asking blessings for their children or healing for stubborn ailments. Jaxom had made sure that Celia hired only reputable healers, but many illnesses and injuries were beyond their abilities. Da’san continued for almost a half hour as people formed a line outside the escort. The soldiers keeping the crowd from getting too close to Jaxom. When Da’san was clearly tiring from the constant channeling of Sarinsha’s power, Jaxom waved off the next person in line and started moving forward again.