Spellscribed: Ascension

by Cruz, Kristopher

  Endrance sat on the edge of the bed and held his face in his hands. He was exhausted, aching, and pressured on at all sides by the people he trusted. They thought he was being a fool for not killing Jalyin when he had a chance. He felt like a fool. He felt he had alienated his allies and worse yet, the people who loved him, by making that decision. Endrance clenched his jaw and lay down.

  There was nothing he could do about the past; he had made the decision that he thought was best at the time. And once the situation had turned out in his favor, he couldn’t go against his word. Now the assassin had escaped, and he hadn’t gotten the answers he had been looking for in the first place.

  Endrance closed his eyes to the dark and tried to will himself to sleep. If he could get some rest, perhaps he could get a fresh perspective in the morning. He lay there, trying to clear his mind and only succeeded in bringing up the things he had heard while underground. He tried to bat them away, but the seed of doubt had already been planted.

  What if he wasn’t human? That would explain more about why he was resistant to the magic in Jalyin’s curse, or the necromantic energy in the wolfmen’s disease. But how? He had slightly pointed ears and facial symmetry that likened him to elves, but even if he were to have an elf in his ancestry, all his studies said that any dilution of human blood in elven bloodlines made them mortal, not magical. It would mean that even if he were somehow half elven, he still wouldn’t be what they were saying he was.

  The word Mercanian bandied about his thoughts. It was something purely out of the blue; he had only read about them in his history books. And even then, they were mostly incomplete. The only rendering of Mercanians described them in almost reverential terms, and discerning their traits had become something that historians enjoyed debating about.

  Other than the fact that they had ruled an empire believed to be many times the size of Ironsoul, the Mercanians were really only known for wiping themselves out during some kind of great war that ended over a thousand years ago. He vaguely remembered Archmagus Talos mentioning the Spellscribing process was inspired by Mercanian magical techniques.

  The possibility of him being one seemed so low it was impossible. Though the possibility of him being half of one was slightly more plausible, it still didn’t make any sense. He would still be a normal mortal. Unless…

  Edrance’s eyes stared into the darkness. A chill ran through him, causing him to tremble despite the warming fire in the corner.

  “Unless the mortal parent was a powerful enough mage.” Endrance whispered. “Then their unnaturally magical nature could be compatible enough to breed true.”

  Endrance didn’t have an answer to his own hypothesis. He didn’t even know where to start looking, except back at the beginning. He needed to return to Ironsoul, talk to the current Archmagus, as well as his master. They had to know more than they had been letting on. An undertaking of this magnitude had to have been noticed by someone… someone he could get answers from.

  Endrance felt a faint tingle of magic against his skin. Remembering similar feelings, he sprang out of bed pulling his remaining dagger and bringing it to bear. Out of the darkness, Jalyin slipped under his swing like he was in slow motion and drove her right palm into the inside of his extended elbow while chopping his wrist with her left hand. His dagger flew from numb fingers and embedded into the edge of the desk.

  Endrance froze, his breath held.

  “I wonder how you know when I’m nearby.” Jalyin whispered, pushing him back towards the bed. Endrance sank down and sat on the edge. The assassin pulled up his chair and sat on it, her arms and chin resting on the straight wooden back. “Because that is not the first time you’ve detected me when I know I was perfectly unnoticed.

  “You’ve got a certain magical signature.” Endrance said, his voice quiet. “Your shadow blending is magic.”

  “It’s a natural ability of my kind.” Jalyin returned.

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not magic.” Endrance refuted. “And as far as wizards go, I’m one of the most sensitive when it comes to the flows of magic.”

  “You’re certainly something.” Jalyin mused. “So now that I’m certain that you’ve removed that curse permanently, I’ll give you the information you need.”

  “Well that’s surprising.” Endrance replied. “I didn’t expect you to return.”

  Jalyin scowled at him. “Don’t take me for a fool. You’re my best bet at revenge. Valeria has a great deal invested in whatever it is she wants from you, and anything I can do to throw a wrench in that, then that makes me all the happier.”

  “So what are you going to tell me?” Endrance asked.

  Jalyin set a small satchel on the desk. “This has what you need in it, plus a gift from me. Thought you might like to have it.”

  Jalyin stood and walked to the window. “I hope to never see you again, mage.” She whispered. “If I do, I may just try to kill you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.” Endrance replied. He watched the assassin slip out the window, then walked over and closed it. He re-locked the shutters, even though he knew that he had locked them before going to bed and that hadn’t stopped her. If he was lucky, it was the last time he would see her for a while.

  Endrance pulled his chair over to the desk and pried his dagger free from the wood. After setting it down, he opened the satchel. Inside he found a map, several chunks of Crystalphage, and his missing dagger. He stared at the blade, perplexed. Had she gone and searched for it after they got out, or did she have it all along?

  He shook his head. He was too tired to think about it now. Endrance used the Crystalphage and went to bed, this time able to push his thoughts aside and actually sleep. He had one of his more pressing concerns taken care of, and he was finally able to drift off. He slept poorly, plagued with nightmares of everyone he loved realizing he was a monster.

  Hours later, the household awoke to the sound of horns blaring through the early morning air. Endrance fell out of the cot, his legs tangled in the sheets as he awoke in a panic. He had never heard the horns before, but considering the siege they were in, it couldn’t have been for something good.

  Endrance burst out of the study nearly the same time that Bridget and Selene came rushing down the stairs. Somehow, they were already dressed. Endrance had just his pants on, not having had the time to change again. He’d had to replace two of his shirts within a week, and was going to run out of wardrobe if the pattern kept up. He looked inquisitively at the two and opened his mouth to speak when Selene threw a bundle of clothes in his face.

  “Hurry and get dressed!” she exclaimed. “We need to get back down to the walls. Something’s changed.”

  Endrance started pulling on clothes, feeling too rushed to be modest. “What do you mean?”

  “That horn means that something happened at the walls.” Bridget replied. “But it shouldn’t be overrun. Usually that’s a different horn that’s echoed up by each gate’s men. We’d have heard five of them by now.”

  “Why are they echoed?” Endrance asked, pulling his shoes on.

  “To make sure that everyone including the king knows that the walls have been taken.” Bridget replied. “They were supposed to do that when it happened last time, but they had a minimal standing guard and were overwhelmed too quickly.”

  “Couldn’t that have happened now?” Endrance asked. This time he pulled on his heavy blood tiger hide coat. While it wasn’t as tough as chain links, it covered more of him and it was far warmer. He pulled on the satchel that Jalyin had left him, sheathing the recovered dagger at his back with its sister. If Selene or Bridget noticed the return of his errant dagger, they didn’t say anything.

  Selene shrugged. “Well now we have hundreds of men on the walls, so taking them all out quickly enough should be impossible.”

  “Unless magic is involved.” Bridget interjected. “Which is why we need to get you down there again.”

  “I’m as ready as I’m going to be.” Endrance admitted wi
th a sigh. He was still tired, and his body hurt from the abuse he had gone through, but he was the only spellcaster in the kingdom. He just hoped there weren’t any enemy mages, because he was unsure how he could handle it. At least he had been able to draw on the chunks of Crystalphage to refuel his reserves of power last night.

  Gullin? Endrance thought. He could sense, rather than hear, his familiar stir from sleep.

  Yes, master? The Fjallar replied. What is it?

  I have to head back down to the wall; can you fly ahead and tell me what’s going on down there?

  I would be happy to, since I am already in the area. Gullin stated. I had found this nice burning house to nest in last night and it is only now died down. It was really nice. You should have been there.

  Endrance rubbed his temples, unsure if he was surprised or just tired. His familiar was developing a sense of humor. He made a mental note to look into it later.

  That would have been bad for my health, Gullin. He responded. I’m not fireproof like you, nor can I breathe smoke.

  Have you tried? Gullin asked, his mental voice sounding more knowing than curious.

  No. Later. Can you look for me please? Endrance said curtly. They had excited the house and were retrieving their horses. No civilians were in the streets at all, though many of their faces could be seen in the windows, watching for activity.

  Already on it. It looks like there is something going on outside the walls, but the wolfmen have not made any attempts to scale the walls. Gullin reported.

  “We should be able to get there in time.” Endrance stated, turning to his Draugnoa. “But just as well, we need to hurry.”

  They saddled up and rode down the mountain as fast as they could. As they rode, Endrance noticed every soldier they passed was on edge, almost as if they were waiting for some evil to appear from the nearest convenient hiding place to swoop down on them. Endrance couldn’t for the life of him understand why they were worried so far away from the front lines, but that horn must have had deeper implications than he was aware of.

  “Hey, was that horn particularly different from any other?” Endrance asked aloud, his voice carrying no farther than the clop of his new horse’s hooves on the road. His last horse had never been found. He assumed it had been eaten or worse by the wolfmen when they attacked him. He felt a twang of regret over that horse; it had survived his whole journey from Ironsoul to Balator unharmed, only to get eaten inside the safety of the walls of the most heavily secured kingdom he’d seen.

  Bridget glanced over at him. “It was an unusual tone, but we’ve used horns for signals before. I just… never heard one used all the way up the mountain like that.”

  “If the king is dead right now, why do the whole chain of horns?” Endrance asked.

  Selene and Bridget both shrugged. “Beats me.” Bridget replied.

  They had just cleared the ramps down into the third bowl when Endrance felt something change. To his arcane senses, it was akin to the radiance of heat a burning fire gave off. A wall of power that felt hot and agitating to him tingled across his skin and his other senses, causing him to twitch for a split second as it hit him.

  Selene noticed his motion out of the corner of her eye and turned to him. “What’s wrong, Endrance?” she asked, pulling her horse closer.

  “You can’t feel it?” Endrance asked, surprised. Despite the cold air whirling around him, he felt hot alongside the cold. That conflicting physical and magical sensation was distracting, but not debilitating.

  “Feel what?” Bridget asked in return. She looked around, confused. “It’s not even that cold out yet.”

  “No, it’s an aura of magic that is huge. And we just rode into it…” Endrance’s voice trailed off as thoughts fell into place, one after another.

  Gullin! Endrance called desperately.

  What do you need? Gullin asked, sounding confused.

  Don’t you feel that? Endrance demanded. Get out over the battlefield and tell me what you feel!

  I am over it now and because of the clouds you made I do not- Gullin’s words suddenly cut off mid-sentence. Hold. I detect the presence of mages coming towards the city.

  You wouldn’t happen to have an idea how strong they are? Endrance asked.

  I do. Gullin responded, his tone dark. There are three mages, each with significant power. They are each somewhat more powerful than you.

  Three mages. Endrance closed his eyes, letting the horse navigate. Selene, who was watching him, figured out what he was doing and directed Bridget to flank his horse, keeping it on its route. Endrance didn’t know how the wolfmen had mages on their side, but it was a moot point. With one mage of equal power or skill, Endrance had even chances. Against three, each stronger than him, he was likely outclassed.

  Kaelob had taught him not to take just someone’s available power into account. If one was clever enough, and mentally flexible enough, they could outwit and outclass mages with many times their strength. The problem Endrance was really concerned with was that there were three of them. If they were close together and working in a team, any tricks he could work would get taken apart many times faster or be completely useless against multiple opponents.

  Where are they? Endrance asked.

  They are at the outer edge of the flatlands around the mountain. Gullin reported. They are not approaching quickly.

  Endrance considered his options. Nodding to himself, he contacted Gullin once more.

  Do they have familiars?

  No.

  Think you could surprise bomb one of them?

  They are already prepared for magical attacks. I am sorry.

  It was worth a shot. How long until you think they will get here?

  They seem to be moving with something carried behind them, and they are moving at your normal walking pace. Gullin observed. I guess one day, if they do not rest.

  They won’t need to, if they’re like the others. Endrance replied.

  Master, I believe that the object they are carrying is the source of that sensation you mentioned. Gullin stated. I feel it too, but I believe that normal humans do not have enough power to be able to feel this kind of aura.

  I was wondering why I could sense them from so far away. What do you think it is?

  I am not sure, but it looks… pretty. Gullin replied. I cannot get closer or they will be able to target me more easily.

  Come back to me. I’ll need your power if I have to fight them directly.

  Gullin arrived, swooping in to land on his shoulder. Endrance only had a little while to prepare to battle three mages beyond his ken for the safety of Balator.

  “There are three mages coming to join the wolfmen.” Endrance reported. “They will be at the gates within a day.”

  Bridget exchanged a glance with Selene. “How do you know?” Selene asked.

  “It’s… a wizard thing.” He replied with a sigh. “The three of them are stronger than me. There’s a good chance that in a straight fight they will defeat me.”

  “Then don’t fight fair!” Bridget exclaimed with practically no hesitation.

  Endrance shook his head. “When each fighter wields the power to warp the rules of the cosmos, what would be considered fighting unfairly?”

  Bridget looked puzzled. Selene sighed.

  “It’s a shame she left without repaying you.” Selene said, bringing up the assassin. “Or maybe we could have paid to point her at them.”

  “And if they’re stronger than you, she’d probably die.” Bridget retorted. “One can hope, right?”

  “She did repay me.” Endrance stated. “But that’s not important right now. I think I have an idea. We need to turn back around.”

  “What?” Bridget demanded.

  “Do either of you know an archer?” Endrance asked. “I mean a very, very good one?”

  Selene and Bridget glanced at each other. “Yes.” Selene said. “But you won’t like where she is.”

  “I don’t care right now.” Endrance excl
aimed. “We have little time and I need someone you trust to shoot far and accurately.”

  Selene frowned. “Fine.” She said. “We’re going back up to the seventh bowl.”

  “What?” Endrance asked. “That’s hours away!”

  “Then we better hurry.” Bridget replied. “I hope your plan is worth it.”

  “If it works it just might save our lives.” Endrance stated. “I hope your archer is good.”

  “Oh she is.” Bridget replied. “The best I’ve ever seen. Beat me every time when I was training.”

  “Then she’ll do fine.” Endrance said, not thinking in depth about the context of what she was saying. “Let’s go!”

  They managed to ride up the mountain in good time, only taking an hour to get to the second bowl. The streets had been empty and that had contributed greatly to their alacrity. Bridget and Selene led him to a large, low building that looked familiar to Endrance but he couldn’t place it.

  Endrance let the two women lead him to the door and watched as they opened it without knocking. They stepped inside and Endrance followed, perplexed. Inside was a main hall for serving food, with several long, worn wooden tables set along the length of the building. Stone construction, the walls were adorned with several tapestries depicting historic events in Balatoran history, some of which he recognized from what the Draugnoa had taught him. The hearthstone before the expansive fire was carved into the depiction if a great horned owl, its wings spread across the stone surface.

  Several women had turned to look at them as they entered, and a tingle of trepidation trickled down his spine. Girls younger than he peeked out from behind some of the grown women, and Endrance noted several girls around the age of five sitting at a far end of a table. He realized that they were in the home of the ‘Owl Women’ of Balator. Here were all the women who had escaped having to serve him.