Mercy's Trial

by Sever Bronny

  The prince made a heaving motion with both arms, bulldog goatee quivering. “Disablo!” he spat, and Augum felt his summoned armor stripped from him with a whoosh.

  Impressive, but now it’s my turn, Augum thought, and triple-snapped his fingers, causing three rapid flashes of light. As his opponent flinched, Augum made a lobbing motion, incanting, “Bola lauba.” Three balls of lightning soared from his hands toward the man. Augum concluded the combination by slapping his wrists together and incanting, “Annihilo bato!” to force the prince to choose which attack to defend against.

  But instead of summoning his shield, as Augum had expected, Gavinius hopped forward and to the left, allowing the lobbed balls of lightning to crackle into the floor and the double prong of lightning to shoot by, exploding into a bookshelf and scattering books into the aisle.

  “That all you got?” the prince taunted, making a hand-over-hand pulling motion. “Eat this—arcan rosso!”

  No you don’t, Augum thought, summoning his shield as he snapped, “Mimicus!”

  The 11th degree Arcane Drain spell reflected right back at the prince with a sizzle, but amazingly, the heir to the empire seemed to have been expecting the simul and hurdled over the spell, even snapping off a Fear casting mid-jump.

  Augum easily dodged it and followed up with his own spell combo, hands a blur. “Flustrato! Annihilo! Effectus xadius! Flustrato!” He ignored the rapid drain of his stamina and aimed at the man’s bobbing head.

  Gavinius ducked and parried and dodged like a cat only for his head to snap back with a grunt as he caught the last Confusion casting.

  “Didn’t even penetrate!” the prince jeered as he fluidly transitioned to offense, beginning with a rapid opening and closing of his hands. A triple crack of crunching bone sounded close to Augum’s ears—the first casting exploded by his left ear, the second by his right, and the third by his left again. They were so loud that, despite his training, he flinched, ears ringing.

  Augum couldn’t hear the prince’s next spells and so used his combat reflex instincts to duck, dodge and weave, only to catch the last spell square on the mind, a necromantic curse called Weakness that would have turned his muscles into jelly. It annihilated what remained of his Mind Armor, making him vulnerable to the next mind spell.

  But the prince, unaware of Augum’s vulnerability, instead shoved at the air. Augum glimpsed the Push spell casting and leaned into it with his shield. But, having been deafened, he hadn’t realized that the prince had cast the spell twice in succession, with the first casting being a feint. As a result, he leaned into an initial shove that didn’t come, went off-balance overextending, and got caught off guard by the second and real casting, sending him flying. He slammed into the bramble wall, which would have skewered him had he not worn his Dreadnought breastplate, and tumbled to the ground with a grunt, dully conscious of the wall taking thudding hits from the other side—his companions were trying to break through.

  The prince chuckled as he strode up to him. “I really thought you would have been more of a chall—”

  Augum’s head snapped up as he lashed out with his arm for the man’s throat. He telekinetically squeezed with all his might, warping the space around him from the sheer power of the spell, rage at the man’s arrogance cascading like a river. The veins on the heir’s forehead popped as his eyes bulged. His arms flopped about pathetically as blood burst into the whites of his eyes.

  Gotcha, you goateed vermin, Augum thought, knowing the bastard couldn’t cast a spell with a closed-up throat. He reached out with his left hand to grab the man’s torso, readying to snap him in half like a twig. But the prince fumbled for his pocket and flicked a pebble at Augum that exploded into a spider the size of a supper plate. It spread its hairy legs, aiming to grab his face. Augum instinctively let go of his telekinetic grip and roared, “Baka!” sending the spider—and the prince—flying down the aisle.

  Just then the bramble wall came crumbling down and Leera, Maxine, Arthur, Mary, Leland, his ghoul, and Mr. Goss burst through.

  “What happened?” Leera asked, helping him stand. She was still cocooned in her watery armor. “You all right?”

  Augum searched the dark corridor ahead but saw no sign of the enemy, only a thick black cloud obscuring his view. He cursed under his breath for letting the heir to the Canterran empire slither off.

  “Dueled Gavinius,” he said, ears still ringing. “He’s got black arm rings and threw necromancy spells. He’s very well trained, so watch out.”

  “Well he is five degrees higher than you,” Leera countered, “not to mention trained by the very best they’ve got. Did he turn into a demon?”

  “He didn’t bother. Didn’t even bother to summon his elemental armor—or his shield, for that matter.” Arrogant bastard. But he couldn’t help wondering how much more formidable Gavinius would be as a demon.

  “Need a moment to recast your armor?”

  “I’d rather conserve stams.” Battle sounds still floated over to them from ahead. “Let’s move.”

  As they hurried toward the fighting, Augum kept an eye out for the prince, anxious for a rematch and unhappy with his performance. But as they reached a central shelving aisle that led to the doors, they crashed right into a group of seven frantic Canterran soldiers and warlocks whose faces were nearly porcelain white from terror. As the two groups quickly picked themselves up from the floor, the Canterrans raised open palms in surrender, shouting, “No quarrel, no quarrel—!” and hurried by, fumbling and tripping in their desperation to run away from whatever was behind them, even leaving their dropped weapons behind.

  The reason why quickly became apparent. Striding toward them like a tumbling boulder was one of the library guardians—a massive golem. Its face was a stony mask that lacked even the barest hint of emotion and its ancient bronze armor clanked and squealed from lack of use.

  The Canterran warlock who had crashed into Augum and was only now groggily getting up spotted the golem bearing down upon him and whimpered. He ignored Augum and instead smacked his wrists together at the stone behemoth, incanting, “Annihilo bato!” Two lightning prongs smashed into the monster but only left a couple char marks, for the golem was immune to arcanery.

  The enchanted rock guardian slapped the Canterran with an open hand so hard that the man’s head flew clean off. As the body fell back, the golem’s return stroke efficiently shot toward Augum’s head, but he summoned his shield in time. There was a thunk as the back of the hand connected with his crust shield, which in turn slammed into his body. The slap was so strong it sent him plowing right through a bookshelf. Books rained down on him as he crashed to the floor on the other side, groaning from the pain, having never been hit so hard in his entire life.

  The golem burst through the bookshelf like a miniature moving mountain, toppling a swath of it. Leera lunged through the hole to protect Augum, but the pitiless golem reared back to strike her.

  Terror shot through Augum like a bolt of lightning. He shoved at her, shouting, “Baka!” and sent her flying—just as the golem’s tree trunk arm whistled through the spot she had been in. She slammed into an opposing bookshelf, spectacles flying free of her head, and awkwardly tumbled to the ground. Her unprotected forehead bounced off the stone floor, knocking her out and making Augum’s heart jam in his throat.

  Arthur scrambled to reach Leera, but Leland’s ghoul got there quicker. It picked her up and ran to catch up to Mr. Goss, who was already dashing away, Leland in his arms. Arthur tailed them, watching their back.

  Meanwhile, Maxine grabbed Mary’s robe, shouting in her face, “Run, you fool!” and flung her down the aisle. Then she slapped her wrists together at the golem, which was rearing to deliver another blow at Augum. “Annihilo bato!” Two earthen vines punched at the golem’s eyes, doing no damage whatsoever.

  The golem swatted at Augum, who desperately rolled back over the ruined bookshelf. Its open hand smashed into the shelf, sending another pile of heavy books tumbling,
burying him. Seeing an opportunity—and praying to the Unnameables that his idea worked—he went completely still, playing dead.

  The crude ruse worked. The golem strode past him, going after Maxine instead. Augum frantically freed himself from underneath the pile of books in time to see her sputter, “Effectus xadius! Flustrato! Baka, baka, baka—!” but she might as well have been throwing rocks for the spells had no effect whatsoever, and the golem simply continued bearing down on her.

  “Summon your elemental!” Augum shouted at her.

  Maxine heard too late and incanted, “Virtus vis viray,” and tried to catch the golem’s massive fist. But she was no match for the golem’s might as its fist traveled past her grip and smashed into her earthen-armored chest, destroying the summoned armor and sending her tumbling with a grunt. Winded, she tried to clamber to her feet as the golem marched after her, but she was far too dazed and only kept slipping.

  Mary, who had bravely remained where Maxine had shoved her, drew a figural outline, incanting, “Summano elementus minimus.” A watery elemental popped into existence before the golem, but the striding mountain obliterated it with a single punch, splashing the shelves with water that promptly disappeared.

  Augum was a mere ten paces behind the golem. Seeing that he had no time to summon his dragon elemental, he did the only thing he could think of—he reached out and telekinetically grabbed the golem’s arm, which had reared back in readiness to kill a fumbling Maxine. The two opposing forces of might collided like battering rams. On the one side was the golem, whose massive arm had frozen mid-strike, its body slowly grinding forward with inevitability, and on the other was Augum, whose veins bulged from the telekinetic strain, every fiber of his being burning, the space around him bending as if threatening to tear the fabric of reality apart. His stamina drained like ale from a punctured tankard.

  Mary grabbed Maxine and began dragging her off. The golem kept grinding forward but Augum would not yield until his group got away. He blew past the boundaries of his stamina and was well into dangerous overdraw, and yet he still hung on, wanting to give them as much time as possible. Only when he felt the lethal cliff of overdraw death nearing did he let go.

  The sudden release of the massive strain caused him to gasp and fall to his knees. The side effects of stamina overdraw, something he hadn’t felt in a while, manifested in blood oozing from his nose and ears. He could taste its tang in his mouth and his head felt like someone was holding it under their boot while repeatedly smashing a hammer into his temple.

  “Ow,” was all he could mouth, wincing from the throbbing pain and trying not to heave from the acid sickness in his stomach.

  The golem, seeing nobody before it, turned and ran toward him. Augum tried to slither away, but knew there was little chance of escape. A faint hope came when he spotted Klines, Bridget and Haylee rushing from the darkness toward him.

  “Run,” he wheezed.

  The ground trembled with each of the golem’s massive steps as the behemoth bore down upon him.

  Klines reached out mid-run and spat a command.

  Augum flopped over to see an indelible sight—the golem’s frozen rocky fist a mere foot from his face.

  The Escape Attempt

  There was no time for discussion. Augum was dazedly helped to his feet, questioned where the rest of his group had gone, told to head to the entrance doors, and left gawking stupidly as Klines and Bridget raced after his squad, leaving Haylee to escort him back. He didn’t even have time to tell them no enemies remained where his group had gone.

  “You look like hell, Aug,” Haylee said, blonde hair in a tangle, face smudged with soot.

  Augum pressed the base of his palm against his throbbing forehead. “I shoved Leera out of the golem’s way and accidentally knocked her out in the process. Leland’s ghoul nabbed her.”

  “I have more faith in Leland keeping her safe than I would a lot of other people. Don’t worry, she’ll be brought to Jengo as soon as possible. He’s at the doors with a bunch of others.” She withdrew a cloth from her pocket and offered it to him. “Overdraw?”

  He accepted the cloth, nodded, and dabbed at his nose.

  She tapped the side of her head. “Ears too.”

  He seemed to be doing a poor job because she took the cloth from him. “Here, let me,” and went to work.

  “How’s everyone else doing?” he asked, wincing as she dabbed away.

  “Couple injuries, but Jengo is attending to them. He was hurt himself. Had to heal his own broken arm. Turns out that healing exam he took wasn’t just for kicks.”

  Augum winced as he recalled hearing the crack of Jengo’s arm bone breaking in front of the arcanist and an entire class of spectators, before he’d had to heal it then and there. That had been back in the war, when they had to improvise lessons away from the watchful eyes of the Legion.

  Haylee finished up and tucked the cloth away.

  “How’d you all fare in the fight?” Augum pressed as they got going.

  “Outmatched and outnumbered until Klines woke up the golems, which turned the tide right quick. Should have seen the terror on the Canterrans’ faces.”

  Oh, I did.

  “At first they thought the golems were on their side,” Haylee went on, “until one of the behemoths rammed a fist right through a Canterran warlock. And I mean right through. Guts everywhere. They began shrieking like children while their warlocks threw spell after useless spell at the things. We stuck close to Klines, who was able to control them.”

  She smiled. “Bridget and Olaf were quite the team. Should have seen them.” Then her face scrunched. “Cry watched my back the entire time, and he was actually pretty good at it. I’ll have to, uh, thank him, I guess.” She brightened. “Gosh I’m awfully proud of us. That was an awesome scrap. Oh, and we even got into a quick skirmish with that prince of theirs, but as soon as he faced a golem he got clever and slipped away. Lucky, I guess, as he looked like a strong dueler.”

  “I’ll say,” Augum muttered. “He’ll be bringing the entire city down on us. We have to clear out of here.”

  They arrived at the entrance doors to mayhem. Bodies were strewn everywhere, some of them still writhing in agony or moaning for their mothers. Bits of flame sputtered here and there and detritus was scattered about from multiple explosions. The place looked like Hell had opened up and spit out thrashing demons in its midst. It stank of acrid smoke and blood.

  Esha sat off to the side, attended to by a muttering Herzog, who dabbed at her lioness head with a bloody cloth. Jengo was hunched over a fallen enemy warlock in a crimson robe, healing him. For a moment, Augum got angry wondering why in Sithesia he was wasting precious arcane stamina on a murdering Canterran, only to realize that, as a healer—especially an Arcaner healer—he was only performing his duty.

  When Jengo finished, he fell back, holding his head, likely having pushed himself. Augum strode over to the Canterran, a middle-aged and rather oafish man with greasy hair and a cruel face that reminded him of the behemoth of a man he had dueled in the snowy plain. He grabbed him by the robe and drew his face near his own, hissing, “You took a knee, so if you betray us, your brains will slap against the walls.”

  “Unnameables, you’re him, ain’t you?” the man gibbered.

  Augum gave the man a violent jerk, roaring, “You understand me!”

  The man made a pitiful yelp and avoided Augum’s eyes.

  Augum felt a gentle hand on his arm. “Augum …”

  He let the enemy go with a spiteful jerk, only to see that the Canterran had pissed himself. The man covered his shame with his robe and crawled away, looking back at Augum with terror, hands trembling.

  Haylee let go of him, worry etched deep behind her eyes. But she said nothing.

  Augum, ashamed of his behavior, massaged his temples, feeling the throbbing pain anew. He acknowledged Haylee with a nod and stepped over to Jengo, raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner.

  “I’m fine,
” Jengo whispered. “I’m fine …”

  “Want to help me perform the Final Valediction, Aug?” Haylee asked. She was still watching him with concern.

  Augum wordlessly joined her in kneeling before each body, his rage melting with each utterance of the sacred phrase. When he kneeled over the tenth body, a rather young Ordinary Canterran bowman, the man’s eyes opened.

  “Unnameables take me peacefully,” he whispered, eyes roving about, trying to see. But something was wrong and he was unable to focus on Augum.

  “This one is alive,” Augum called out.

  Jengo came over and placed a hand on the man’s chest. “Examino potente morbus aurus persona.” After concentrating on the Diagnose spell, Jengo looked up at Augum with a grave expression before melting away, leaving Augum alone with the young man.

  “You’re the enemy, ain’t you?” the Canterran whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “An Arcaner.”

  “Yes.”

  “Which … which one?” His voice was the barest of whispers now.

  “Augum.”

  “The Arinthian …”

  “The Arinthian.”

  “Your … your friend, the brown-haired one—”

  “Bridget?”

  “Yes. She killed me. She killed me …”

  Augum didn’t know what to say to that. All he could think of, stupidly, was, “We are enemies, your people and mine.”

  The young man blindly reached out with a trembling hand, which Augum grasped.

  “Will you … will you give me the Final Valediction?”

  Augum, surprised that he was aware of the ceremonial ritual, nodded, throat dry. “I will.”

  “Do it now. I … I want to hear it.”

  Augum hesitated. “As you wish,” he whispered. He steeled himself and, with a clear voice, said, “May your soul find the peace together we could not reach.”