by Jay Swanson
“I don't know that I can hear any more,” she said, face reddening in anger. “How could she give away my inheritance like that to some boy?”
“I doubt in the moment she had much choice,” he said. “And for all we know she had some device in mind to pass them on from him to you.”
Caspian turned calmly back to Ardin to continue, allowing Alisia to sit in her own time.
“So you're saying that I'm a Mage?” Ardin ventured to ask.
“Not hardly,” said the old man. “You're some sort of amalgamation, but certainly not a Mage. You've retained your human nature as much as you've gained that of any Mage. Take for instance the occasions on which Alisia was rendered helpless by the technology of the soldiers. Were you?”
“No.” Ardin thought for a moment. “No, but I felt sick to my stomach every time.”
“I don't believe that's just your power being capricious, young Ardin. I don't know what exactly has transpired inside of you but I do know this: you've changed. And I believe it to be a marvelous change, one that might just alter the tide of events unfolding.”
“How could he possibly fit into what's going on?” Alisia's bitterness was thinly veiled.
She was so confused by how she felt, conflicted, upset, disappointed. It was all she could do to put on an angry face and wait for the answers.
“I believe that is yet to be seen,” he responded quietly. “But I dare to hope. There is only one step that remains.”
“The Uriquim.”
“Precisely.” Caspian's expression was pleased, but concerned for the boy at the same time.
“She's yet to be released,” Ardin said. “That's where the voice has come from.”
“Indeed,” he said. “I don't think she has too terrible a hold on you, and in fact I would imagine she has only been able to act on you in moments of vulnerability. The apparition of the Shadow King, for example. I doubt that was actually him, staying to gloat in the murder of your family. I hardly expect he knows you exist, which is good for you. By the sound of it, he's hunting for Magi.”
Ardin simply nodded, knowing somehow what had to be done.
“What are you two talking about?” Alisia finally broke the silence. “Why does he need a Soul Stone?”
“She's still inside my head, Alisia,” Ardin spoke softly. “She's been driving me to exact revenge for her. I never told you about all that happened to me before you found me.” He turned to look at her. Stoic, sad. “I never wanted to burden you with any of this, with what drove me to find you. With what drove me to kill those men. I didn't know what you might think...”
“He must be rid of her.” The Mage stood up suddenly, taking the dark Uriquim from Ardin and showing it to Alisia. “You have one of these, do you not?”
“Yes,” she said, producing hers from underneath her blouse. “It's never done anything, I don't even understand how it works.”
“That's because you've never been properly shown,” he said. “And consider it a blessing, because it only happens when one that you love passes, or you do yourself.”
With that he produced the chain from around his own neck, glowing as if infused with the very energy of life itself. To Ardin it looked almost like there were dozens of tiny fireflies inside; they floated gently in all sorts of different colors.
“I hold the last link to their souls,” he said as he turned to Ardin. “It is a burden we willingly carry in the hope that we can call them back one day to aid us in a moment of need. I never have, nor am I sure I could. But if this stone is lost or destroyed, so too are any hopes of connecting with Magi passed.”
He put the jewel under his heavy robes again and gestured to the one in his hand.
“When you die, you are bound to this stone. This is one final thing that differentiates us from mankind. When men die, they pass on to the next life and to bliss with their Creator. As for us, we do so tentatively with the understanding that we may be called back to fulfill a greater duty. I don't understand it and I've never seen it happen before, but somehow Charsi has bound herself to you in lieu of any Uriquim. We must change that, or you will never be free.”
He walked over to Alisia and held out his hand. She knew instinctively what he was asking for and removed the necklace, placing it gingerly in his hand. He walked back over to Ardin, and asked him to lie on the bench.
“The crystals in the drink I gave you,” he said as he loosened the robe over Ardin's neck. “They should make this easier than I suspect it otherwise would have been.”
And with that he thrust the gem into Ardin's chest so hard it broke the skin, and his world erupted in a kaleidoscopic array of light and pain.
Ardin awoke, wide eyed and heart racing, as the sky seemed to swirl above him.
“There!” he heard the Mage shout. “It is done.”
He must have blacked out, Ardin thought as he started to look around frantically. He couldn't move his head, couldn't move any part of his body. He didn't feel any pain, and only scarcely remembered the shock he had received as the Mage had thrust the stone into his chest.
His chest. He could feel it burning all along his sternum. At least that part hadn't been a dream, he thought.
“Can you move yet?” the kindly face of the Mage appeared directly above him.
All Ardin could afford was a weak grunt. He was paralyzed.
“That's what I thought.” The Mage disappeared from view again. “The crystals were a mild sedative, one that was initiated by your adrenaline and supposed to keep you from experiencing what I've just done. The side effects will wear off soon enough.”
Alisia appeared in his view now, strong concern etched into her face. Whatever he had just been through must have been quite the ordeal, he thought. She had hardly talked to him since he'd seen her.
“Are you alright?” she asked with a quavering voice, to which he replied with another weak moan. “You'll be alright, Caspian knows what he's doing.”
Ardin wasn't sure who she was trying to reassure more. He noticed that her necklace was back around her neck, the gemstone glowing with a single, bright purple light floating in its interior. He wished he could smile because the sight gave him nothing but a sense of peace. He was free of a torment he had hardly known.
“Give the boy some space.” The old Mage pushed her aside to Ardin's displeasure. “You can still hear us, can't you? Of course you can. You rest while we talk and you can save your questions for later.”
Alisia and the Mage sat on a nearby bench, leaving Ardin to stare at the clouds passing overhead. At least his vision had cleared, he thought. Even if he was limited to watching the clouds pass overhead.
“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he could hear the old man say. “But now at least your connection with your mother is restored.”
“Will her power pass to me?”
“That is too early to tell, I suppose,” he said. “But I think not. Whatever has happened to the boy will not be undone. At least not by well intentioned hands. You will stay the course and learn the Atmosphere as all who came before you.”
There was a silence, long enough to make Ardin wonder what was going on.
“It's not that I have to learn the arts,” Alisia said finally. “That isn't what's bothering me.”
“Then what is, child?”
“I just feel like I never knew her anyways, not truly. She spent most of my life imprisoned in the mountains, and now... now she's gone.”
“Indeed,” he said.
“That would have been my only real tie to who she was,” Alisia's throat tightened, her rising emotions threatened to overwhelm her. “That would have been the only way to know her, to really know her.”
After a long pause, Caspian spoke. “Your mother was the most beautiful woman of any race to walk this planet. She was strong, commanding, and compassionate beyond reason. She was the first to stand in the gap for man when the Demon threatened, and the last to concede to leaving me behind, even after I had made the decision fo
r myself. I'm sure she fought valiantly to save her people, and I fear that she was corrupted and embittered by the betrayal of men. Understandably so, but a tragic course of events nonetheless.”
They sat in silence a while longer. Ardin could feel the mobility in his arms returning but he stayed still.
“Why did she leave me, Caspian?” Ardin had never heard desperation enter her voice like that before.
“I can't tell you that, child. But if there had been any other way, she would have taken it.”
Ardin sat up slowly, momentarily forgetting his desire to keep from causing a disturbance. Alisia was leaning into Caspian on the bench, trying unsuccessfully to keep from crying.
“Feeling better are we?” The Mage stood up slowly, walking over to inspect Ardin.
“What did you do to me?” he asked, uncertain if he should be grateful or not.
“Once again, I'm not certain,” Caspian said.
It wasn't exactly reassuring news.
“She's gone though?”
“Oh yes, she won't bother you any longer. But we have a lot of work to do.”
“What?” Ardin blinked against the light, his head was spinning from sitting up. “Work on what?”
“You may have been endowed with her knowledge and abilities, but we'll need to awaken them in you,” he paused for a moment. “Think of it as remembering how to do things you've never done but have always known how to do.”
“That doesn't make sense to me at all,” Ardin rubbed his head.
“It will, soon enough,” the Mage stood. “I'm going to teach you how to use magic.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
THE SHADOW KING set foot on Grandian soil for the first time in what felt like ages. He had wished to never return here, but necessity drove him now. Time was short, he could sense it as he surveyed the landscape. All was not as well as the forests would have him believe.
“You never explained how you knew to avoid the Dragons,” the ship's captain said to him from the row boat with which they had ferried him to land. “I n'er made it so easy, let alone without a fight.”
“I need you to stay here,” the Shade said, ignoring the question.
He had hired the small smuggling vessel to bring him to the continent in search of the girl. They were as likely to leave him behind as not so he had withheld over half of their payment. It might have been overkill, the idea of navigating the dragons on their own could prove encouragement enough.
“I have business to tend to, but I'll return within two days.”
“What if'n you don' come back?” the captain's eyes shifted to the tree line. Whatever kind of business brought a man here, the sailor reasoned, was as liable to get him killed as not.
“I'll come back.” The Shade turned with a knowing smile. “You'd best hope I do at least. You won't make any money if I don't.”
The landscape was flat and fairly even for a good ways. Off in the distance tall hills rose from the jungle like tree-covered welts. Their dark green draws drew an ominous contrast with the lazy, low-lying clouds that mingled among them.
He started walking inland as the sailors pulled back out towards their ship at anchor. Pieces of a ship that had attempted to land farther north could be found scattered about the sand. The Shade wondered if his prey had been among the casualties. He left the beach behind, following a path he remembered that should lead him to the nearest trading village. If they had wound up anywhere, that would be it.
He hadn't gone more than two miles past the sporadic scattering of hills before the trees began to thin out dramatically. It appeared that they had been cut down, and it caused him to slow his advance. The air was beginning to reek of smoke and human waste. It came as a shock to him, and soon he was passing more cautiously through the trees as though he might be discovered at any moment. He didn't see any other signs of people's presence, but he didn't feel like taking chances.
He stopped entirely as he spotted two shadows on the ground in the distance. There were two of them. They were large, converging on him from the left and right in unison. He had seen similar shadows before and looked up in time to see two Titans closing. They looked like mountain dwellers from here. Seeing them over the jungle disconcerted him greatly.
He jumped to his immaterial state and waited. He could sense them circle twice before landing nearby. They knew he was there, somehow they knew. They simply waited, and after a while he decided to try his chances and see what they wanted.
He rematerialized to discover two large, bat-like creatures staring straight at him.
“We're old enough to know these things,” the one on his left said, as if in answer to his unspoken question. “We are here merely to deliver a message.”
“A message?” the Shade asked, taken aback by the whole experience.
Titans were rare, mostly extinct. To have two of the same race standing in front of him with a message to deliver was certainly something worth paying attention to.
“From who?”
“The Relequim,” said the second.
The Shadow King bristled at the name. “You mean the Greater Demon.”
“He is known by many names,” said the first.
“We care little about your opinions of him,” said the second. “Our own are merely tied to what he offers us.”
“Mercenaries then,” the Shade said, half to himself.
“He wants to extend the knowledge necessary to utilize the knife you carry,” said the first. “He wishes to give you the power to restore your people, to aid you in whatever way you need. And as an act of good faith, he will even tell you the location of the Magess you hunt.”
“I don't want your master's help.”
“He is not our master,” said the second.
“And what does he want in return?” The Shadow King found it hard to resist. Even the slightest hint as to what his old enemy planned could be useful.
“He wishes only that you clear the path to the sanctuary of his tomb.”
The Shadow King laughed at the idea. “No one can do that,” he said. “That's suicide.”
“Not for one like yourself,” said the second. “Like you will become when you take on the powers of the Magi. You are already half human.”
“That was foreseen as a possibility,” the Shade countered. “There are still mechanisms in place to stop me from freeing him.”
“But not once you take on the powers of a Mage,” repeated the first. “No one could have foreseen that possibility.”
“Free him,” said the second. “And you shall have the power to restore your people and fulfill your duty as their leader.”
The Shade stood for a long while in thought. He couldn't bear to think of allying himself with the enemy. It would undermine his whole purpose. But without help he wasn't sure he would ever have the power he needed to restore the Shadow to physical existence again.
“Tell him I don't need his help,” he said finally. “I'll never come so close as think of holding peace with him.”
With that, he turned and began walking north. He had seen a clue in the Titan's eyes and posture as to where he could find his prey. Ancient or not, they still made mistakes.
“His offer stands,” one of them called after him. “When you've run out of options, he will still accept your friendship though you spit on it now.”
The Shadow King ignored their treaty. He would continue on the path he had taken, the hard path, the right path. It would lead him to duty, to glory, and to the powers of a young Magess.
ARDIN HAD THOUGHT that perhaps he would start out with fun activities. He had hoped, at least, to make something explode in his first lesson. Instead he found himself moving large white blocks from a pile at the foot of the hill to a resting place by the unfinished portion of wall. It took him the better part of the morning, and by the time he was done, he had moved the whole pile, minus the five blocks he had either accidentally dropped or broken on each other.
“Very good,” the Mage came out
to inspect his work and bring him his lunch.
“What's with the mist?” Ardin asked.
“I'm sorry?”
“The mist. I've noticed that whenever anyone manipulates the Atmosphere it appears around the user. What is it?”
The old Mage thought about it for a moment before looking down at Ardin.
“You know to be honest I've never thought of it myself. It just always happens.”
“You mean you don't know?”
“No,” he said. “I can't say that I do. Now enjoy your sandwich and I will demonstrate your next task.”
And with that he extended his left hand beyond the pile, causing a large bucket to float out from behind it. It was filled with mortar, and with simple grace, the Mage took the trowel from the bucket and sent it soaring to the wall with a large glob of fresh glue. The trowel seemed to operate on its own, skillfully spreading the mortar in place before a block rose in the air and placed itself firmly on the fresh cement.
The Mage let the bucket down in front of Ardin, who stood agape.
“And that,” he said to the speechless young man, “is how you will finish my wall.”
And with that he walked back towards the gate, whistling some ancient tune. Ardin furrowed his brow as he finished his sandwich. He was tired from moving the pile, but if that old man could do it then so could he.
Alisia watched as Caspian crossed the gardens to sit next to her again. She had been reading as many of the old annals in his library as she could find. He had written most of them, he told her. This continent hadn't had much in the way of libraries when he had decided to stay. The history of the place was gruesome.
“Why was the Demon created if he was to cause so much suffering?” she asked him as he joined her. “And why not simply snuff him out when he did?”
“Excellent questions,” Caspian said as he sat.
Song birds had flown in and joined them in the trees surrounding his house. It all seemed so peaceful compared to what had transpired in the wars and before.
