Sun Mage

by John Forrester

  “Why? In legend the heroes always went down to the Underworld and retrieved some ancient artifact or weapon. All the stories say that. Perhaps what we need to fight the Jiserians lies in this ancient city.”

  “We don’t have time to search.” Talis wiped his brow, and glanced around the place, feeling a strange tingling along his neck.

  “Mara does have a point,” Nikulo said. “We’ve come all this way and nothing to show for it. I have an idea.” He pointed at the map case.

  16. HALDRAX

  Talis hated the idea, but spread out the Surineda Map anyways. He felt a warm tingling run through his fingers.

  “Now summon the image of magical relics, artifacts, and weapons in your mind.” Nikulo peered at the map as the symbols glittered and danced. The map went cold suddenly, then it trembled as if focusing. Soon little points like starlight appeared on the map with one strong point in the center that Talis knew was his own.

  “There are so many around us…I never imagined.” Mara clasped a hand to her mouth as four points of light shone brilliant against the rest. One was a golden-yellow, one was emerald-green, one was regal-red, one was silver and black.

  “Four relics, one for each of us,” Nikulo whispered. “Talis, the gold one must be yours.”

  “My favorite color is green.” Mara’s eyes glittered with feverous excitement. She faced Nikulo. “And yours is red.”

  Nikulo nodded, but frowned uncertainly.

  Talis glanced back at Rikar, who stood staring at a hole atop a spiraling tower dotted with gemstones. “Rikar…there’s one for you as well.”

  As Talis spoke, Rikar was startled to attention. “One of what?”

  “A magical relic…the map has revealed four of them, one for each of us.”

  Rikar sauntered over to Talis and looked at the map. “The silver one is mine?”

  Talis nodded, wondering what Rikar had seen in that tower. Talis had gone along with Mara’s idea, but now the air seemed to chill with deathly vapors. Whatever was here in the city seemed better left alone.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Talis stared at the tower.

  “Mine is off in this direction,” Mara said. “Let’s go. If you don’t want yours, that’s up to you.”

  If this was any place else, Talis would be up for a treasure hunt. Here in the eerie shadows from buildings ages old, Talis felt this was a truly horrible idea. He stared at the map again, hoping it would reveal danger. He focused his mind on what he wanted, but the map didn’t change, it shimmered a bit but still displayed the four treasure points.

  They were getting close to Mara’s relic. Talis looked up and saw a grey castle with a broken stone door. They stepped over fallen blocks until they reached what appeared to be a ballroom. The grey mist of the Underworld shone above through the cracked ceiling.

  “Over here.” Mara entered a side archway leading down a corridor. Even after all these years, the stone castle was mostly intact.

  At the end of the corridor stood a marble statue of a princess. In her right hand she held a dagger that glowed faintly with a greenish tint. An emerald adorned the tip of the hilt.

  “My dagger!” cried Mara, and dashed towards the statue.

  “Mara, wait!” Talis ran after her, but she was too fast in reaching the room. Mara stood in awe, gazing at the princess and the dagger, as if wondering who she was.

  “This is my dagger, right?” Mara glanced at the Surineda Map. “We’re right over the marker.”

  Rikar strode around the statue, finally inspecting the inscription at the base. “To my ever-loving daughter, Princess Minoweth, may the stars shine ever-bright in your emerald eyes.” He sniffed and stood back up. “The alchemist’s daughter. He was also a sorcerer and I’m sure he imbued special powers within the dagger.”

  “We should leave these relics be. Disturbing whatever powers lying dormant here would be a mistake.” Talis felt the air go still, as if sensing what would happen next. If Mara took the dagger, he was scared a curse might fall on her.

  “What harm is there in taking relics forgotten by the ancients?” Rikar smirked, as if he thought Talis the stupidest person on earth. “They don’t need them anymore, but we do. Maybe we don’t need to go to Nacrea’s temple after all. Maybe all the power we need is here…in these relics. Maybe the Surineda Map is trying to tell us something. This is what we need.”

  Mara reached out her hand. “I’m going to take the dagger. I believe the map was telling us something. These relics are ours.” She glanced at Talis. “Remember? Out of the many lights, only four were chosen, doesn’t that mean something?”

  She had a point. Talis wanted to believe what she was saying was true, but the twisting lump in his stomach told him otherwise. He looked at Nikulo. “What do you think? You were worried before.”

  Nikulo frowned and sighed, as if uncertain. “We’re in the Underworld…the land of the dead. Everything in here is tainted. We can’t even sleep overnight for fear of joining the dead. The map answered our question truthfully…that doesn’t mean it’s wise to take these relics.”

  “You’re just a coward,” Rikar said, and scoffed. “Let Mara have her dagger if she wants it. You can leave your treasure here if you like. I’m taking mine next.”

  Mara had a sad look in her eyes as she glanced at Talis, but she grabbed the dagger anyways. The relic shone a brilliant emerald-green, causing Talis to cover his eyes and look away. When the light faded he felt lost and sad watching Mara twirl her new dagger in her hands like she’d received a present for her birthday.

  “See, nothing happened.” Mara lifted the dagger close to inspect the blade. “It’s inscribed. ‘The wielder shall hold the power within, banishing darkness from the world.’ That doesn’t sound like a curse to me.”

  “More like a promise, a hope for us all.” Rikar peered at Talis. “Show me the map.”

  After winding their way along dead pathways through slumbering towers and buildings and castles, they followed steps down into a massive mausoleum. Standing guard at the foot of a stone crypt was a statue of a young king wearing a simple crown. On his left index finger he wore a silver and black ring that glowed faintly in the dark light.

  “This one is yours.” Mara grinned at Rikar, still twirling her magical dagger.

  Rikar bent down to read the inscription. “For all the world’s folly, a fool’s wisdom seems foolish to those blind to brilliance.” He frowned and stood. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means your a fool,” Talis said, feeling disgusted they were stooping to robbing graves instead of continuing on their quest. “I’ve had enough of this. Take the ring and let’s go.”

  “Are you seriously not going to take your relic?” Mara peered at him, her expression saying, What are you thinking? When Talis avoided her eyes, she turned to Nikulo. “What about you?”

  “Wear the ring,” Nikulo said. “Nothing’s happened to Mara. But I want to be sure.”

  Talis felt like punching him. Were they all losing their minds? Maybe this place was affecting their judgement. Talis watched Rikar slide the king’s ring onto his finger. His form shimmered and faded and then it stabilized.

  “What was that?” Mara said, staring at Rikar curiously.

  Rikar laughed like the experience was the most amazing thing ever. “That’s awesome!” He ran outside and aimed his hand at a tower. An explosion of silver and black light incinerated the tower, reducing the stones to bits of rubble and dust.

  “I am definitely going next.” Nikulo chuckled, and wiped his forehead. He looked at Talis. “I know you don’t like it, but I have to see.”

  Soon they stood in front of a long stone wall. Monsters and gods and demons were carved onto the surface. They scanned for a relic, but all they found was stone.

  “Where is it?” Nikulo said, running his fingers along the shape of a hydra.

  As Talis stared at the Surineda Map, he wondered why he was still helping them find the relics. But his
certainty about the relics containing a curse faded as the day went on. Mara and Rikar seemed the same, especially Mara who acted completely her normal self. Maybe these relics weren’t cursed after all?

  “We’re right where the map says we should be.” Mara’s eyes brightened. “Look, Talis’s relic must be along this wall as well. Now it’s so close.”

  “Maybe it’s lodged underneath one of these stone carvings.” Rikar tapped the figure of a demon.

  “But which one?” Nikulo furrowed his brow as he stared at the wall.

  Mara touched the figure of a god that looked strangely like Tolexia, the God of Healing. “Do you feel an affinity to this god? It looks familiar.”

  Nikulo came close and held his breath. “Tolexia? Or an ancient version of the god.”

  “Few people know that Tolexia has two faces,” Rikar said. “Most know him as the God of Healing, but he is also the Shadow God of Poison, of curses and pain. The god that can heal can also inflict horrible pain.”

  “Who told you that?” Nikulo scowled at Rikar.

  Rikar smiled a smile that said, Who do you think told me? “You don’t pay much attention to things, do you.” He turned to face the carving. “Go ahead, get the relic.”

  Nikulo hesitated, staring uncertainly at the figure of the god. Talis knew what was going through his mind. In Naru they were taught to never dishonor anything representing the gods. They were treading on dangerous ground. Nikulo went to pick up a stone piece lying on the ground.

  “Don’t just bludgeon it to death.” Mara frowned. “Think about it first. Nothing is as it seems with the gods. Everything is a test for mortals.”

  “Say a prayer to Tolexia…show the god your pure heart and true intent.” Talis suddenly realized this was a all a test. What is often a curse can just as easily be a blessing. “This will tell us if these relics are really meant for us.”

  “There’s wisdom in that.” Nikulo closed his eyes and bowed as if in prayer. Then he stretched out his hand and touched the carving of the god. “Tolexia, hear my prayer. If you favor this mortal in his quest, reveal your sacred relic. I promise in my heart to always use it for right purposes, in defense of the sick and injured and those in need of protection.”

  Talis sighed as the stone remained silent. Nothing had happened. Maybe now the domain of the Underworld was so tainted from Zagros that the other gods refused to grace it with their presence.

  “I have an idea.” Mara glanced down at the map, then looked along the wall to the right. “The last relic is here. It’s golden like the sun.” She faced Talis. “Search for her…search for the Goddess Nacrea. And when you find her, both of you pray to your gods at once.”

  A light flashed in Talis’s mind and he felt as if everything turned clear at once. Mara was right. The answer was right in front of them.

  So he stepped along the wall, searching for the Goddess, searching for her figure amidst carvings of dragons and specters and wights. And there she was, bushels of wheat above her head, angels surrounding her, and the four moon sisters at her feet.

  He ran his fingers along the carving of the Goddess Nacrea and felt a warm tingle like rays from afternoon sunlight striking your back. A pressure released from within, and the constant chill that had possessed him in the Underworld snaked out of his body. He was going home. The Goddess was here.

  Talis nodded at Nikulo, then closed his eyes. They both said their words of prayer, their simple pleas, and all the while Talis hoped with his heart that his family was safe and Naru undisturbed. He hoped the Goddess could hear him.

  In the faded grey mist of Haldrax, a faint light slowly appeared along the forgotten wall. Talis could feel it on the back of his neck. He glanced around and saw the light falling on Nikulo as well, his figure still bent in prayer.

  The wall came alive.

  Scattered across the surface, the gods and goddesses stirred, colors coming to life. Then the monsters twitched and lashed out at the gods and goddesses, but in a flash were destroyed by brilliant bursts of power. The demons rose from their slumber, red eyes blazing, their wet black forms assembling in rage against the gods.

  A clear, delicate laughter rang out.

  Talis felt a bead of sweat fall along his spine. A pulse of golden light instantly banished the horde of demons. Where there had been a stain upon the wall was replaced with a green, expanding, flower vine. All around them the sky turned blue and the wall blazed with a golden light radiating from within.

  The place on the wall between Talis and Nikulo shone a fierce brilliant white, forming an archway, a doorway, a portal of light.

  Talis heard a distant rumbling. In the valley far below, a dark sandstorm came tumbling towards them. The clear blue sky fought against the storm and died, succumbing to its power. A deathly pallor surrounded them and the storm pelted them with sand. But the glittering portal still stood.

  With the storm came the deep growls of the nether hounds. The pack had returned. And something else new, something darker, something so seeped with the taint of death that it chilled Talis to the deep marrow of his bones.

  “We have to go now.” He stepped towards the portal. “All of us.” He glanced at Mara, Nikulo, and Rikar. “We all go through together.”

  At his words they joined hands, faced the shimmering light, and leapt into the portal.

  17. THE TEMPLE

  Sunlight broke through thick clouds rolling over the horizon in the afternoon. Talis studied a long row of Magpie-geese flying over a vast forest, turning and forming into a wedge. They honked and chattered, singing the last song of autumn. The wheat field around him swayed back and forth under a stiff wind.

  After Talis had stepped through, his hands and arms and legs disintegrated under the force of a golden mist. It was as if his body opened and closed and inverted inside out. He felt numb and raw, exposed to elemental forces. He experienced the strangest perception: his senses existed in millions of different places at once, separate and yet somehow connected. He tried to scratch his head, but instead a swirl of golden particles fluttered and drifted above himself. He glanced around to find Mara or Nikulo or Rikar, but there was no one.

  A gush of wind moved him. He wanted to recoil and protect himself, and that desire drove him down to the ground. He clasped his arms around his shoulders, shivering. He looked around. He was solid again. A cold wind howled through the fields. All alone, he wondered where they were. But the wind only blew harder and sent chills up his neck and scalp.

  “Mara!” he shouted. “Nikulo? Rikar?”

  Then he turned and faced the wind, breathing it inside. His muscles and tendons softened and stretched. Blood coursed quickly. Every pore in his skin opened and flushed with sweat. Heat emanated from his body.

  Soon the wind softened. The scene before him brimmed with colors and life. Ahead, an old, wooden temple sat inside a stand of maple trees. Leaves yellow and red fluttered to the ground. The air smelled of cedar and honey and wet earth.

  As he neared the temple, a silver and orange lynx pawed over to him and cocked her head. She stared up at him, eyes filled with curiosity. She let out a deep, throaty call, as if inviting him to pet her. Talis reached out and touched her silky head and the lynx urged his fingers deeper into her fur. She pawed and prodded, murmuring and purring in delight. The cat's gentleness surprised him and he found himself smiling.

  “You're beautiful…what shall I call you?” He kneeled next to her. “You need a name, one that suits you well.” She yawned, then licked his hands. “What about Charna, after the legendary princess?”

  The lynx reminded him of his own cat, Tobias, the orange and white tabby who played with murderous delight with mice and birds and baby squirrels. Charna stared into his eyes, whiskers probing up near his cheeks and mouth, purring and chattering and sniffing. She smelled just like Tobias did after drenching his fur in the sun. He laughed, throwing off his cloak of tension, getting lost in this new world.

  The sun was warm. A wave of sleepine
ss suddenly washed over him and he lay on his back and stared at the clouds rolling across the sky. Eyelids pressing heavily, he drifted off.

  He dreamed of his family all together, laughing and playing by the ocean. Gulls flew low over the beach, catching wind drifts, their eyes searching. His little sister Lia ran along the shoreline, splashing and squealing with delight. His father grasped his mother's hands, kissing them; his smiling, beaming face eyed her tenderly.

  A warm swelling came over his heart. This was the perfect day. Everyone was so happy, without a look of worry.

  Then Mara placed her hands over his eyes, and said, “The tide is coming to take us away.” She smelled of roses, and the feeling of her exhalations landing softly on his neck sent a tingling sensation throughout his body. It was as if all the sounds and images in the world had ceased, and in one small space, only her smell and her touch—only that existed.

  She giggled and squirmed in the sand, rubbing against his back. She tipped over and sent them both sprawling. He glanced up and the sun momentarily blinded him with its brilliance. As he turned over onto his side, Mara's figure bounced and darted past seagrass in the dunes. From his sideways view she appeared tall, her form distorted as if in a mirage, wavering and wiry, and she receded far off into the distance.

  He stood quickly. The air had turned a pale-misty-grey. He caught sight of Mara and bounded after her, just as she had jumped behind a cypress tree. He shouted, “Mara, come back!” His voice was deep and slow and foreign, strangled by the mist. Running, he chased after her, but she was always out of sight, never closer. Frustrated, he cried and kept calling for her. Thick beads of sweat covered his brow, and his muscles along his calves and thighs and stomach tensed.

  Finally she was gone and he was alone. “Mara,” he cried.

  Day had turned into night and the thickening fog brought a suffocating darkness. He stopped and his heart pounded in double and triple time, thumping erratically. His blood pulsed through the sides of his temples and vibrated throughout his body.