Heretic Spellblade

by K D Robertson

  Behind him, Ciana nodded enthusiastically. She had understood what was happening the moment she found out what happened to the leylines, after all.

  But this was a trick question. Nathan didn’t understand why, but Leopold was testing him. Again.

  The trick was that Nathan could never have learned what was happening right now, at least not the normal way. No book had ever been published or would ever be published describing this. Most Bastions never encountered this set of circumstances either, because it required somebody to commit heresy in the first place.

  The portal had been passive when Nathan had arrived. He had known that the energy must be going somewhere else, and any Bastion could determine that fact. The leylines were being disrupted and causing the demonic energy from the portal to flow out into the world. Eventually, that would create a new portal and a new demonic invasion.

  The natural reaction was to stop the disruption. Everything should go back to normal. But it wasn’t, and it was for the same reason that the leyline disruption had weakened the portal to begin with.

  “It’s similar, but different,” Nathan answered, trying to hedge around his actual knowledge. “This looks and feels like a cascade. But it’s not.”

  “A cascade?” Vera probed.

  Leopold gave her a considering look, then shrugged and gestured for Nathan to continue.

  “All binding stones and demonic portals are linked through the leylines. When excess energy pours out of one portal, it must go somewhere. Normally this isn’t an issue, but when too much energy pours out at once, we call it a cascade,” Nathan explained. “This is how demonic invasions can occur at multiple portals at once or in close sequence. Not all of the energy from the first invasion was let out, so it spills over to nearby portals.”

  “But that’s not what’s happening here?” Vera asked.

  “It is, but it can’t be,” Nathan said. “There are no demonic invasions nearby. The binding stone at Forselle Valley hasn’t reported any, neither have any other fortresses deeper within the Empire. And the binding stone on the other side of the mountains, within the Federation’s Fort Taubrum, is still inactive.”

  Leopold nodded, his smile broadening. “So?”

  “Like I said, it’s a cascade, but it isn’t. The effects are the same: rapid expansion of the portal; constant arrival of demons; an accelerating rise in demonic energy. Every time I take out a bandit group, the situation worsens, so I’ve slowed down.” That was a lie. Nathan had been taking it slow since dealing with Sen, because he had expected this.

  “In other words, you think this cascade is related to the leylines?” Leopold asked.

  Ciana was practically jumping up and down.

  “I believe your ward agrees,” Nathan said, inclining his head toward the unicorn beastkin. She blushed but stood her ground this time.

  “He’s right, Leopold,” Ciana said. “And you know he is. You taught me about leyline cascades.”

  “That I did,” Leopold said. He patted Ciana on the shoulder again. “Yes, this is a cascade. It is, in fact, the primary reason I came out here. I wanted to confirm that Gharrick Pass still existed, and that I wouldn’t need to hold this fortress myself.”

  “What a vote of confidence,” Nathan drawled.

  Anna’s jaw dropped. After several seconds, she picked it back up and gathered her wits.

  “You thought my county was in danger but did nothing?” she hissed. “What kind of protection is this?”

  “The sort that is focused on the future of the Empire,” Leopold said. His smile dropped. “A Bastion who can’t deal with a demonic invasion isn’t useful to His Majesty. That is the cold, hard truth. The fact you appear to be managing the situation is a testament to your ability, Nathan. Most would have suppressed all the bandits within a few days, then been overwhelmed by the ensuing demonic horde immediately. A valiant end, but a pointless one.”

  Nathan shrugged. Somehow, this colder side of Leopold felt easier to deal with. Perhaps because he felt similar to many other senior Bastions from Nathan’s timeline.

  “I estimate I have another week or two,” he said. “My real worry is the Federation. I can deal with demons, but both at once?”

  “Fortunately, you will now have a monogem Champion of your own,” Leopold said. “Although I recommend that you make some more preparations.” His gaze fell on Sen. Did he realize that she wasn’t a Champion yet?

  Probably. Nathan hadn’t requested permission to grant her the status. Sen lacked the training to accept an enhancement, and there was something else she was much more suited for.

  “I have a few more tricks up my sleeve,” Nathan admitted. “If we’re done here, why don’t we have some lunch? The cooks have prepared something special.”

  The rest of Leopold’s visit went smoothly. Seeing Ciana during her cuter phase was heartwarming for Nathan, as his memories of Ciana so young were very distant. But when Leopold left with Anna and Vera, Nathan found his thoughts drifting to the coming war.

  War. The very thing that Nathan had come back in time to avoid. He knew what he needed to do to stop his timeline from happening, and the demons from destroying everything. But was that enough to stop the Messengers in this timeline?

  He needed to make more preparations.

  Chapter 20

  “Are you sure about this?” Nathan asked Sen.

  “I may not remember him, but every bone in my body calls out for him,” Sen answered. “I feel like I’m missing a limb.”

  Nathan finished pouring salt for the summoning circle. Standing up, he sighed. Sen copied him, then shot him a grin when he glared at her.

  “You remember the price you’ll pay, don’t you?” Nathan reminded her.

  “I won’t age. He’ll take up a seat in my mind. I’ll lose access to all sorcery that isn’t fire element or closely related, but lose my weakness to water.” Sen began ticking off fingers. “My hair will slowly lose its color. My eyes will turn red. I’ll grow horns—”

  “You won’t,” Nathan corrected. “Grow horns, that is.”

  “You make it sound like I will.”

  The pair of them stood in an underground chamber within the keep. Fei knew they were down here, but nobody else did. The door was locked and sealed with magic from the binding stone.

  The floor of the room was covered with symbols. Two summoning circles, to be precise. The inner circle was drawn in chalk, was very simple, and nine candles burned around the circumference. The outer circle was drawn with salt and was far more complicated. Spaces had been left for runes to be drawn with magic, and a larger one for Sen to stand connected the two circles.

  “Allowing a spirit to possess you is a life-altering decision,” Nathan explained, for what he felt was the hundredth time. “And an ifrit is easily one of the most powerful spirits you can summon. If I hadn’t already seen you spend a lifetime supporting him in your mind, I would never let you do this.”

  “But somebody already did in your timeline,” Sen said. She smiled. “And I’m choosing to be possessed this time.”

  Nathan looked away. He hated this.

  “I want to help you, Nathan. But I haven’t trained in the academy. I haven’t acclimated to Champion enhancement. You even admitted you don’t know how many gems I might be able to support even if I become a Champion. But you know my potential with Ifrit.” Sen took his hands. “Rather than spend years waiting to become a Champion and fight by your side, I’m making the choice to fight with you now.”

  “I still disagree with your choice,” Nathan said. “But it’s your choice.”

  He didn’t know how to handle this Sen. One look into her eyes and his doubts vanished. She was his Sen. He knew that. But she didn’t act like her.

  The Sen he knew was timid. She was terrified of her own power, and sought his comfort because she needed it, not because she wanted to cuddle.

  The root cause of the change was the very ritual she was about to undergo. Although Nathan knew very l
ittle about Sen’s past, he knew that the Federation had forced her to be possessed by an ifrit. Her affinity with fire and natural talent with sorcery made her an immensely dangerous weapon, and he eventually got her away from the Federation. But the damage had been done.

  Was he about to put her through the same trauma?

  “You’re looking at me like that again,” Sen said, her low voice low. “You need to think less, Nathan.”

  “Thinking is a large part of my job,” Nathan said.

  “Think about the right things, then.” Sen huffed. “Look, we spoke about this. I’m fine the way I am.”

  Nathan was torn.

  Kadria had held up her end of the bargain. Sen trusted him, loved him, and talked about feelings and emotions that reminded Nathan of his old Sen.

  But she didn’t have the memories of his old Sen. What she had were emotions about events and people she didn’t remember.

  Phantom limb syndrome was a problem that caused people who had lost an arm or a leg to still feel sensations from it. Sen suffered from phantom memory syndrome, where she trusted Nathan because of memories she no longer had. For all of Nathan’s worries about overwriting the Sen from this timeline, he wondered if it would have been a better choice.

  “Nathan,” Sen warned.

  “You say that you’re happy, but you don’t know what you’re missing,” Nathan said.

  “Maybe. But I can feel the emotions related to what I’m missing.” Sen’s eyes became distant, and she flexed her fingers. “Other than you, there’s not much positive. Ifrit feels more like a missing limb or a security blanket. But Fei? Anything else I think about? I don’t feel that I need my missing memories to be happy.”

  Nathan scratched his head. Could he disagree with her? He wanted to. Everything about this situation troubled him.

  “I want to move forward, Nathan,” Sen said. “Can we leave it at that?”

  He sighed. “Okay. Like I said, it’s your choice.”

  “Good.” Sen smirked. “You know, I get the feeling you need this sort of push often. A reminder to go with the flow, or to get back on track. Did I badger you like this before?”

  “Not really. You were more timid,” Nathan said, then frowned. “You used Ifrit as an excuse to voice your opinions earlier.”

  “Ah. Well then, this should be fun for both of us.” Her eyes glimmered, and she bounced away to her designated spot in the magic circles. “If you overthink things, I’ll bop you in the head. Fair?”

  “I don’t know if I agree to that,” Nathan replied slowly.

  “Too bad.” Her hand glowed, and she did a slapping motion in the air.

  A small force struck Nathan upside the head, just strong enough to irritate him. He glared at Sen. She giggled and said nothing.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Nathan mumbled, and made the final preparations for the summoning.

  Minutes passed as Nathan slowly poured magic into the summoning circle. The salt glowed, then smoldered. A thin barrier of smoke rose from the salt. Nathan smelled nothing, but the air felt charged with magic. An overbearing presence appeared to enter the room. As if the air itself was expanding and pushing against his body.

  The salt burst into flames, and the haze from the smoke and heat became thick enough to be a shield between Nathan and whatever was in the circle.

  That was the sign Nathan had been waiting for. He stopped pushing power into the outer circle and instead activated the inner circle. The candles flickered for a moment, then burst into meter high torches. Smoke as black as soot pumped into the inner circle. An invisible barrier kept the smoke within the chalk summoning circle. The smoke spiraled together and congealed as it rose to the room. A form slowly emerged from within the dark haze.

  Nathan licked his lips. All summoning rituals came with some risk, but an ifrit was a tremendously powerful being.

  Summoning rituals tended to be similar in process. The summoner opens a bridge to the spirit world, using himself as an anchor and magical power as construction materials. That was it. Everything else was about controlling the bridge: where does it go; who can use it; how big is it?

  Most importantly, the ritual circles also prevented the summoned spirit from escaping the circle once summoned. While a djinni—a race of spirits that ifrits were part of—couldn’t exist in Doumahr long without a host, there was nothing to stop the ifrit from forcibly seizing a host. A mistake in this ritual could be more devastating than the coming demonic assault.

  Hence why Nathan used two circles. The inner circle was the bridge. The outer circle attempted to constrain the ifrit once summoned.

  Two burly arms emerged from the smoke, each covered in ruby red scales the size of Nathan’s head. The ifrit’s skin was craggy, like the side of a mountain, and thin glowing cracks ran across it like magma veins. A demonic head emerged, its maw dripping with liquid fire that spread embers across the room. Two horns as long as Sen jutted upward, and glowing red veins could be seen within them.

  The smoke sank to the ground and swirled around the base of the ifrit. The spirit hovered in the air of the room, its horns nearly scraping the room’s ceiling. Size-wise, the ifrit stood easily twice Nathan’s height. But this wasn’t its full height. The ifrit had legs that were hidden within the smoke.

  Presumably the ifrit had determined that it couldn’t fit inside the room at full height, and had compromised by only showing its upper half. Not that it needed the bottom half to be intimidating.

  “Foolish mortals, you dare to summon the great Ifrit?” the ifrit boomed. “I have no time for the petty trials and tribulations you waste your fleeting lives on. Tell me your purpose here, and I will deign to consider your proposals.”

  Sen stared up at Ifrit. Her body shook as she tried to meet his fiery gaze. Ifrit’s eyes were like pits into Hell, and his presence overtook the room.

  Moments passed. Ifrit hovered, still silent, and flexed hiss claws. Sen gulped and looked at Nathan for help.

  “Can we skip past the melodrama?” Nathan asked, desperately trying to keep his tone light despite his inner worries. “We all know why you’re here, and what we want. It’s not like you have anywhere better to be.”

  Sen’s eyes transformed into dinner plates. Ifrit turned his head and glared at Nathan, his eyes narrowing.

  “Must you ruin one of my few guilty pleasures?” Ifrit said, crossing his arms. They were thick enough to imitate tree trunks. “The summoning is an important moment for me to impress upon people my power.”

  “Sure, but we kind of already know about your power. I wouldn’t have summoned you if I didn’t,” Nathan said.

  “You’re not one for parties, are you?” Ifrit asked. The booming timbre of his voice had settled and now made him sound like a grumbling old man. “I’ve half a mind to leave and make you respect the next djinni you summon.”

  “Really? Leave, go back, and do what? Play cards for the next several decades in the spirit world?” Nathan taunted.

  “I have some wonderful friends. It’s not so bad.”

  “Excuse me, but what the hell?” Sen burst out.

  Nathan and Ifrit looked back at Sen. Sensing a chance to regain his earlier momentum, Ifrit let out a deep cough.

  “Well, little mortal, have you dwelt upon your innermost desires and come to your conclusion? For what purpose have you summoned me?” Ifrit said.

  Sen stared at him. Her eyes narrowed. “This is just theater, isn’t it? You talked like a normal person to Nathan, but now you sound like somebody from a folk tale. Do you think this is funny?”

  “No, I feel that it’s fun,” Ifrit replied. He sighed and stared at the ceiling for several seconds. “Very well, if you prefer it, I shall get to the point. Why do you want my power, human?”

  “Well, I want to fight for Nathan and—”

  “Your Bastion may want you to fight for him, but is that what you truly want?” Ifrit’s gaze bore down on Sen. She shrunk in on herself and looked to Nathan for sup
port.

  In response, Ifrit flung a claw out toward Nathan. “Do not intervene, Bastion. I will hear her answer. You Bastions are predictable. I don’t need to hear your reasons. Only hers.”

  Sen swallowed, closed her eyes, and fell silent for nearly a minute. When she opened her eyes, they were filled with the determination that Nathan expected to see from her, even if she had always been too scared in his timeline to show it so openly.

  “What I told you is exactly what I want,” Sen repeated.

  “Why?” Ifrit asked.

  “Because I want to support him. He supports me right now, even though my power as a spellblade is too weak to compare to his Champions. And I can’t become a Champion easily. I’m already talented at fire element sorcery. With you, I can become a worthy partner of Nathan’s,” Sen said.

  Ifrit considered Sen silently. After several seconds, he turned to face Nathan.

  “You are the summoner here. Have you explained the risks?” Ifrit asked.

  “I have,” he said. “In detail.”

  “And you still allow her to do this?” Ifrit’s voice hadn’t changed, but Nathan knew he was being judged.

  Before Nathan could answer, Sen cut in.

  “It’s my decision,” Sen said. “The effects on my body, the restraints on my sorcery, the unaging, the need to live with you in my mind at all times. It’s my choice. Not yours. Not Nathan’s.”

  Ifrit chuckled. “Not my choice? You realize I’m going to be bound to you until your demise, yes?”

  “And what else will you do?” Sen smirked. “Go back to the spirit world and play cards for the next several decades? This is my choice. Deal with it.”

  Letting out a sigh, Ifrit turned fully toward Nathan. “She’s a willful one. It’s rare for me to possess somebody with such mental fortitude.”

  Nathan wasn’t sure how to feel about that statement.

  “So you accept?” Sen asked, her voice raising in pitch.