Origin Mage

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Origin Mage Page 12

by John Forrester


  “How does one buy things in this city?” Nikulo was practically drooling at the sight.

  Silver, of course. The priest’s voice echoed in Talis’ head. Though smaller chits for smaller items like food and the like. You will find barter a very common practice, as well. Especially for services and larger items. We have a considerable and flourishing trade between the many worlds we are connected to.

  “We come from trading families,” Talis said, finding evidence of trade everywhere. Crates, boxes, chests, bags, boxes and parcels of all kind. And the evidence also lay in the greedy eyes of the merchants. Stands displayed rolls of fabric, carved wooden objects, cooked animals lathered in oil, vats filled with simmering soup, boxes filled with strange fruit, nuts, and vegetables.

  Gold and silver trinkets were on display, jewelry covered in a multitude of precious gems, quite exquisite in their artistry. Sellers showed people paintings of all kind, sculptures of black marble, ceramics dyed in all the muted colors of the rainbow, and finely carved wooden boxes inlaid with precious stones and ivory.

  Farther down, musicians and dancers entertained a crowd. They gathered around a towering black fountain spewing showers and mist from the mouths of babies, dragons, water sprites, serpents, boars, monstrous-looking fish heads, and other mythological creatures. Children laughed and clapped their hands as jugglers tossed swords, daggers, and flaming torches into the air.

  One corner held an old, wizened storyteller weaving a tale to a rapt audience sitting on silk rugs and over-stuffed pillows. A magician it seemed, as the story came to life above them in pictures and sounds, though all in silver and gray light.

  All are free to come and go as they please, the high priest said, stopping a moment to study the bearded storyteller. Though freedom does come with a cost. We require a vow of loyalty, and adherence to our religion, and submission to our laws and respect of culture. Otherwise, visitors will face banishment, though we do allow temporary guests on the condition of trade.

  To Talis, the word banishment sounded like a death sentence. “And what are your laws?” he asked, feeling overwhelmed by this world.

  A boy bounded over to where a ball came to stop at Talis’ feet. He picked up the ball and handed it to the boy, who scowled at him and ran off to play with a group of children.

  They are quite simple and twofold. Respect life and do no harm to any living thing. Respect the culture of all people, their property, and the rights of others. Exceptions to these rules include the preparation of food, where the living plants and animals have undergone the proper ceremony and prayer, respecting the sanctity of their lives. Adhere to our laws and you will remain unharmed. Otherwise, you will be banished.

  Mara looked puzzled. “How long have your laws been in effect in this world? We heard strange stories from Caisa.”

  This world has evolved over the years, significantly over the last thousand years, when we simplified our laws and purged the old masters. This so-called goddess is merely an old tyrant from a different, crueler past. The high priest’s blank stare was unconvincing, but Talis nodded nonetheless and they continued down the street.

  It didn’t sound so bad, Talis thought, but remained wary all the same.

  Nikulo had procured some food from the vendor who sold bread and meat wraps. He took a huge bite and sighed in delight.

  “What about Selana? The Starwalker who was tasked with capturing Caisa and bringing her to this world. That doesn’t sound respectful to me.”

  Caisa has malice in her heart. We couldn’t allow her to return and wreak havoc on our society. She had to be detained.

  “You mean to have her placed back in that black cell?” Talis tilted his head, feeling a bit irritated. “To rot in there for another ten thousand years?”

  We have no record of her imprisonment. You are talking about something that happened a very long time ago. We deal with threats and eliminate them. If she kills someone on this world, she will be killed.

  “Slaying her body will do nothing. She’ll find another body.”

  We have means, said the high priest, its voice ominous in Talis’ mind. We have means of eliminating the spirit as well. Some beings are better wiped away from the universe.

  “Perhaps,” Talis said, beginning to doubt the priest’s words. Not all was as it seemed, he believed, here in the apparent utopia of the Origin World. “But Caisa was not imprisoned by Selana. In fact, the opposite is now true. We were sent as scouts to prepare the way. Caisa and her priestesses will come, you know, after we fail to return. Do you think you have what it takes to defeat her?”

  She cannot penetrate the defenses of the temple. None have ever succeeded.

  “But what if she bypasses the temple and enters the world through another way? You can’t block everything.” Mara gave the priest a withering look.

  We can, actually, and we have for over a thousand years. The priest turned its gazed toward the far mountains. The jagged peaks looked like a row of dragon’s teeth.

  All over the world we’ve placed deadly hexes on all known locations for rune stones used previously for travel. If Caisa attempts to open a portal, any who dare enter will immediately be slain and utterly destroyed. Selana has certainly informed her of that.

  Nikulo snorted, and finished swallowing his food. “You’ve never met Caisa. She has a damnable talent of doing the impossible. Besides, don’t you think that over the course of ten thousand years your scribes might have missed some runes? Runes that lead to old, hidden areas of your world?”

  A frightening thought came to Talis. “And does Selana or any other Starwalker know all the rune combinations where you’ve placed hexes? I pray they do not.”

  Was it worry that appeared in the high priest’s eyes? Or a flicker of something like fear or doubt. We have freely shared such information in our libraries. The point of doing such thing has been to discover additional rune combinations, which we have found and blocked over the years.

  “Yes, there’s logic in that.” Nikulo’s face hardened. “But unfortunately, now whoever possesses such knowledge is a mine for Caisa to harvest such information. And the results, I believe, will prove deadly for your world.”

  Somewhere, off in the far distance, an explosion rang out, causing all eyes on the street to turn in wonder and fear.

  It had started, Talis thought, and the conclusion would be war.

  18. The War of Thorns

  They were trying to be tricky. Didn’t they know they couldn’t fool her? She knew the rune combinations to every ancient place on this planet. And Selana’s mind had opened like a ripe fruit under Caisa’s inspection. A wicked grin spread across her face. Bloodshed and tears always brought joy to her heart. Especially when the blood being shed was that of her enemies.

  “Enjoy the curse of everlasting torture.” Caisa spat on the robed sorcerer lying on the street.

  The man cried in agony and the terror of defeat. Yet still the sorcerer attempted to resist her. His mind refused to give up. After another blast of electricity drained the man of his desire to fight, the sorcerer exhaled and turned his hate-filled eyes toward Caisa. With his last bit of strength he seized something from his belt and flung it at her.

  Before she had a chance to react, she was overwhelmed by a black, spotted shape. For an instant, she swore she saw a man-sized moth flying out of the object the sorcerer had hurled at her.

  All the air left her lungs in an instant. She tried to gasp but found she couldn’t breathe. Her wide eyes went to the dying man and found him staring at her in a final, triumphant look of glee.

  She clawed at her chest. Her hands seized her throat in a violent attempt at getting air.

  She was dying.

  The man merely grinned in victory and satisfied revenge. His eyes seemed to say, You’ve killed me, you witch, but I’ve done the same to you. Choked to death, before my dying eyes. This gives my death meaning.

  She looked over in desperation to where Aurellia was draining the life out of
a desperate, struggling sorceress. Caisa tried to sound a warning, to cry for help, but no sound came from her lips. She would die, alongside her prey, melting away into the familiar fading light of unconsciousness.

  Caisa watched the dark lord battle the persistent sorceress. But struggle as she may, the young woman didn’t have a chance against him. In frustration, she tried switching spells, but Aurellia merely swatted them away, his ashen face filled with a familiar kind of maniacal glee.

  The world began to ebb away, dimming. Brilliant lights bubbled in Caisa’s vision, overlaying the battle scene.

  “I thought this was going to be difficult,” said Aurellia, turning to her. “Why did you bother summoning me— What is this?”

  He reached out to her at the worst possible moment, leaving himself unprotected from the sorceress. The woman grasped a gourd at her side and flung it at Aurellia. Once again the shape of a huge moth rose and quickly engulfed the dark lord. Breath left his lungs, but he didn’t gasp nor was alarmed. He merely turned, aimed his hands at the dying woman, and blasted her with a blinding, golden light. All that was left was a shower of glittering dust swirling around under the force of the wind.

  A great sneeze came from Aurellia and the black, spotted moth was ejected from him. He looked irritated at the assault. Never one to be long bothered, the dark lord returned to studying Caisa as she lay dying.

  “It wouldn’t be hard for me to let you die.” He tilted his head in curiosity. “I wonder how you could have been so easily subdued? It’s your insistence on inhabiting the body of the living that causes you to be vulnerable to things like breathing. I’ve chosen wisely ages ago to occupy the body of ash and bone.”

  His voice sounded far away now, like at the end of a long, dark tunnel. She was enduring the cold embrace, of death’s comforting arms, and now, her desire to fight was waning. Perhaps it was better to fade away forever, and leave this bitter existence. It was such a fight to come back to inhabit another body after death. She didn’t know if she had the willpower left in her, not anymore.

  Caisa felt a hard slap strike her chest. A hand digging inside, worming its way into her lungs. Pain exploded across her body as she felt something leathery and angry being ripped out from inside.

  She gasped, her eyes flaring open. The gray light flooded in all around her.

  “I won’t let you die and leave me to suffer under the hands of these bastards.” Aurellia grunted, smacking his hands together. “You’ll need to be careful of these sorcerers. Dirty little mongrels like to pull nasty tricks on you when they die.”

  She glanced over to where hundreds of soldiers and sorcerers were ducked down behind and around stone walls and fortifications, studying them with crafty eyes. They’d seen her fall and seen what Aurellia had done to mitigate the killing spell. They would adapt their struggle against them. This wouldn’t be easy, she realized, and they still hadn’t begun to fight the old masters. If they were even still around after all these years.

  “We should be careful,” Caisa said, frowning. “I never should have underestimated them. Though they are not the masters, their powers are strange and formidable.”

  “Do you have a defense against the powers inside their gourds? The moth spirits?”

  She shook her head, feeling confused. When they had first used elemental and shadow magic, it was easy to battle them. But whatever strange magic sat inside their gourds was unknown to her, and defeated her here like on the Starwalker sanctuary and her battle with Selana. If it wasn’t for Mara, she’d be handed over to the priests of Yavreel, a prisoner, or dead.

  “It seems your predictions of an easy victory were unfounded.” Aurellia cast a stream of silver hexes into the ground around them. A line of heavily armored soldiers charging at them paused, warily studying the runes glowing in the ground. He looked at the soldiers and let out a snort of laughter. “Why don’t you see if young Rikar and Devonia can deal with them? We shouldn’t expose ourselves to unknown danger. You’re forgetting your reasons for forcing them to join us.”

  “Then call them over. We’ll study the enemy’s attempts in battle, though I doubt the outcome will be any different.”

  Rikar came over, sneaking warily as he glanced at their enemies. He bowed low to his master. His girl, the one called Devonia, eyed Caisa and Aurellia with suspicion. She wasn’t sworn to either of them and it surprised Caisa that she had come. Likely some blind loyalty to the boy. Or perhaps it was a foolish act of love.

  “Go and kill anyone who opposes you. Why should we slaughter the pigs? This is a task for apprentices.” Aurellia brushed off his hands and looked around.

  “It looks like a pig almost killed a goddess.” Rikar glanced at the dead sorcerer lying on the ground.

  “Don’t get smart. Mind your tongue, boy, or you’ll find yourself a sacrifice to the goddess.” Aurellia scowled at him.

  “A stinking sacrifice it will be,” said Rikar, chuckling. “I doubt the goddess will find me pleasing to her nostrils.”

  “Where is it again we are going?” Aurellia asked, scanning the cityscape. “As if it actually matters. Though a place of refuge would be ideal, considering the fierce opposition.”

  “To the temple.” Caisa pointed at the black marble building off in the distance. “And it absolutely does matter. What’s gotten into you? You’ve always been a subversive and pompous ass, but now your attitude borders on insubordination.”

  “Insubordination?” Aurellia gave her a hard stare. “I’d sooner pluck out my eyes than be here helping in your war of revenge. I grow sick and tired of it all. I should have left you to die.”

  “Why didn’t you? The arms of death were pure bliss. Did you fear my retribution from the other side? Or were you afraid I might get inside your head, again, and wreak havoc on your unstable mind?” A sly smile crept over her face.

  Aurellia turned away and growled. He found a soldier still alive on the street and narrowed his eyes as he bent down next to him. Lashing out his hands, he clasped the soldier’s head and squeezed. The skull gave an angry crack and the man slumped over, dead.

  Caisa gave a snort of disgust. Why did he even bother? Or was the act meant to show Aurellia’s hatred of her? A glance from his cold eyes told the truth. He wanted her dead, truly and irreparably dead. The kind from which she would never return.

  “Grow up. You’re only making the hornets angrier. Look at them.” She stared at the line of enemies. “They’re probably preparing some trap for us. We’ve lost of the element of surprise.”

  “I wasn’t the one who decided to launch a series of massive explosions.” Aurellia shook his head in irritation. “Remember? I advocated a stealthier approach. To take prisoners, interrogate them, and sneak our way through the city. Why would it have been so hard for you to listen? Blend in, I said, but you had to go and make your big, dramatic entrance.”

  “Shut up, already. You forget your place. You think you’re the man and master, and I the woman, subservient. I’m no wife to be chided, you fool. And don’t you forget it.”

  Aurellia bit his wrinkled lips, stifling a retort. But he stayed his temper, much to Caisa’s satisfaction. She was about to speak when he interrupted her.

  “How do you propose we proceed?”

  “The boy and the girl fight first. If they fall, then we’ll let them die.” Caisa glanced at Rikar and Devonia, a smile spreading over her face.

  “They will most certainly die without assistance. Wouldn’t it be prudent to send some of your priests?”

  She shook her head. “No. My intention all along was to lead the lambs to the slaughter. No mercy for the weak. Let them prove themselves worthy in a fight, or let the natives paint their streets with blood. As I remember, Yavreel desires the dark stain on his black temple. Besides, it is said, a gray world craves the color red.”

  “You honestly expect us to fight them?” Rikar looked furious. “Why would we do something so stupid? I saw you dying. Even you couldn’t protect yourself from the
ir magic. Why don’t we come up with some other plan? Only Lord Aurellia has proven himself effective against them.”

  “For now,” muttered the dark lord. “I happened to have benefitted from a lack of needing to breathe. They’ve been watching me. Already I feel the machinations of their minds turning, adapting to our attacks and defense. The next fight won’t be so certain.”

  “And Selana and the other Starwalkers have fled.” Devonia’s voice was soft and filled with dread. “More opponents to deal with. This is perhaps the worst attack plan I’ve ever been a party to. You ignored the council of your most powerful ally and failed to secure the loyalties of the broader group. Your act of revenge against the rulers of this world is falling apart.”

  Caisa glowered at the girl. But deep inside, she knew she was right. The Nameless had been overconfident in her assault of the Origin World, and now they had to adapt or die. Even her loyal high priests and priestesses were looking scared, uncertain. Her next move was of critical importance, that was, if she was to maintain leadership and the confidence of her allies.

  “I have a made a grave mistake, and my mistake is not listening to your advice,” she said, casting her eyes at Aurellia. She tried to adopt a repentant look. “I realize this now. We are at a crossroads. Either we die in a vain attempt at victory, or we plot our way to success. The latter is preferable. And I believe we must work together to accomplish this.”

  “Accomplish what, exactly?” Aurellia said, eyes venomous. “Your false display of humility won’t help. We all know you for your true nature. You want vengeance, I understand. But against whom? Not one person we’ve encountered seems to know who you are. How can you exact your revenge when we don’t know who we are trying to destroy?”

  Caisa lifted her eyes to study the black onyx temple. Ancient memories of her banishment and imprisonment came to her in a rush. “Lord Drofan. He was jealous of my power and influence in the Council. He led the movement against me. He had me imprisoned and my followers killed.”

 

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