Battle Mage: Winds of Change (The High King: A Tale of Alus Book 11) (50 page)

Sebastian pushed the pace speeding along two hundred feet in the air. His dragonfly wings moved him at high speed and the sea passed by quickly. Like the air currents rushing past his face nearly bringing tears to his unprotected eyes, the land in the distance changed almost as swiftly.

Coming from Tarmand to New Harbor had taken most of two days travel by ship. They had been forced to tack into the wind since the air coming through the channel was often chaotic for ships heading north. Strong winds coming from the west and the Glacian Ocean drove through the channel between the mainland of North Continent and the large islands to the south. The change to the land had created an unnatural separation where the winds from all four directions seemed to fight for dominance, however. The North Sea to the east and the ocean south of Sileoth could reverse the wind or send conflicting currents to confuse sailors and their sails.

Under his own power; the battle mage, who was now a dragon mage as well, he supposed, could push through the various winds. Sebastian used his weather reading spell to surf the currents. Finding the flow between gusts and cross breezes, the flying man could move up and down to avoid bad air or even adjust his direction as he generally headed southwest.

While his wings moved almost without his direction, Sebastian noted his body could feel gravity wanting to pull his legs down. His core fought the need and used the flow of air to help as well, but before heading out across the channel, the mage found a small island off of the final point of North Continent between Southwall and Sileoth to land.

Resting his back with his landing, Sebastian maintained his wings while he opened a travel pack strapped to his front rather than his back where his wings needed to function without a restricting pack. To his surprise, not everything inside was as he had originally planned. A mouse looked up at him in surprise and the mage sighed.

"Evie, I assume that is you. What are you doing here?"

Escaping from the pack to run down his body to the ground, the mouse grew changing from its white fur to a naked redheaded girl in a glow of magic.

"Ashleen said I should go with you, just in case," the changeling answered stretching shamelessly before him. "She was worried that you might not be able to fly so far."

Frowning at the girl, Sebastian realized that when Ashleen had offered to help him pack some food for the trip, she must have slipped Evie into his pack as well. Searching inside his pack, the mage found a change of clothes for the girl on the bottom under the food and drink he carried.

"And adding a few pounds of mouse and clothing helps me how?"

Smiling up at him, the petite girl replied, "If you can't fly all the way to Sileoth, I can change into a shrike. I can make it one of the larger ones capable of carrying you for a time. Hopefully I can carry you long enough for you to regain your strength to fly again," she finished with a happy smile.

"I am going to meet with a king. You can't be walking through a city like that," he said gesturing to her bare body.

"Ashleen packed a dress and boots, which she said would be appropriate, even for a castle," Evie replied with a shrug as she turned away from him to look at the waves all around them. From the island, which was little more than a rock about twenty feet at its widest point, Sebastian could see nothing beyond the waves. The breeze pushing the water felt cool to his skin here.

That was the one thing he disliked about flying, the air felt colder than it did on land. He couldn't use his air shield without diminishing the abilities of his wings, so his skin had to deal with the wind no matter how it felt to him.

How Evie could stand naked on the stone island without shivering was beyond him. Worse, the mage noted that he was getting used to her quirks. The nudity bothered him less and less as often as she and Ashleen had been around him that way. That wasn't a very Southwall kind of view of how things should be, but the mage was getting tired of fighting to get them to be proper ladies around him as well.

"Do you think that you can make it from here? Is it a lot farther to go?" she asked without looking at him. Evie's eyes seemed engrossed in the beauty of the blue green water of the channel between the seas.

Taking in her questions, the mage pulled a pair of lodestones from the pouch at his waist. If he did fail in his attempt to fly across the channel, Sebastian figured that he could at least use the portal here to continue his flight after refreshing himself.

"We're about a quarter of the way there so far," he answered before using his magic to bind the stones to the island. Since it was likely that certain tides would cover the low piece of land, the owl would make it impossible for the water to wash them away in the meantime. "My magic is strong, but my back is starting to feel a little worn from keeping my legs up."

Evie turned to walk towards him and surprised him using a mage spell, his mage spell, "Heal."

Touching her hands to his arm, the girl closed her eyes and he could feel her presence as it moved through him. A warmth started in the sore muscles of his back before it cooled as if to numb any lingering pain. Evie stepped back after healing him, but as her knees started to buckle, Sebastian was forced to catch her.

"I didn't know you could heal. Are you alright?"

Nodding, her red hair moved to cover her face from him as her head bent to look towards the ground. "I will be fine. Ashleen and Elzen have tried to teach me how to heal."

As she looked back up shaking her head as if to clear the cobwebs from her mind, the girl added, "When you are gone, we find things to amuse ourselves. I've watched you both heal enough to try it. I like being able to send my mind into a body to help heal it, but it is still a bit taxing."

He nodded and let her go as the girl's legs seemed to gather strength. Offering her part of a sandwich from his stash, the mage wondered if the girls had added enough food to sustain them both.

After Evie had eaten a bit and taken a drink from one of two canteens, she shifted back into a mouse. The mage placed her inside saving the changeling from having to climb before launching into the air again. With the girl's healing magic having relieved his muscles of any pain, Sebastian flew south leaving his country behind for a time.

He would try to get news of the war to the east, but for now the mage could only fly.

The sounds of fighting came from all around the plains. Cries of anger, pain and suffering were countered by the clash of steel and wood. Monsters roared and fought men, who prayed that they would survive; but many serving Sileoth would not.

In the mix, a man fought amongst the soldiers using both his sword and the power of magic to defeat his opponents. He didn't wear the purple of Sileoth. He was instead dressed in black and, though the man was a battle mage by training, Palose was no ally to those defending Sileoth's interests.

His sword clashed with another soldier's and his skill was enough to back him off quickly, even without the use of a reflex spell. Such a spell was perfect if he was in great need, but an extended battle would exhaust such magic and could only be used a few times before it began to be more of a hindrance than a help. A body could only take so much abuse and the mind had to function on a higher level making a man feverish if he abused such magic.

A blue mage shield deflected the next blow giving him an opening. Palose's blade slid beneath the man's ribs moving upward towards the lungs and heart. Once pierced, the soldier's legs began to fold beneath him as his sword dropped from his fingers. Death was close behind and Palose withdrew his weapon letting the man fall.

Taking quick stock, the dark mage frowned. Two of his guards had fallen while he was distracted. He watched as another lost its head directly before him. These weren't ordinary soldiers fighting for him. In fact, several wore the purple tunics marking them as natives of Sileoth.

"Balish, Tongold, hold the perimeter and make sure these wrecks don't go too far," Palose ordered. Two men turned to look at him with red glowing eyes. They were called wraiths or wights by the necromancers who were willing to use the spells. Many warlocks refused to use such magic. It went against life to call back a dead man's soul.

The other fifteen soldiers stopped their advance fanning out to guard the mage as he bent to focus on the man who had just died at the end of his blade. Biting his thumb hard enough to draw blood, Palose drew the necessary markings on the man's forehead and chest. Blood magic or a curse spell, as some referred to it, could make the magic more powerful; but required less from him.

A chant with several gestures released his power into the husk causing it to shudder and gasp air into its lungs. The dead didn't truly need air, but a lesser wraith would mimic what they had done in life. Unlike the two he had addressed, this soldier awoke with just a modest amount of his original intelligence. He would serve as another blade and access the training the soldier had in life. The dead man would serve until someone cut him apart or Palose canceled the spell.

Finding two more that appeared adequate, the dark mage used his blood magic to call up more guards bringing the number to twenty.

Ready once more, the dark mage prepared to move forward. The enemy before him had fallen back. They feared the undead and seeing those still covered in blood advancing to try and kill them served that fear. Being dead, they could be stabbed and cut over and over just so long as the nervous system continued to function enough to keep them moving. A normal soldier feared death and these beings had no such fear already being dead.

"Forward," he ordered and the eighteen lesser beings advanced in a hurry. Stumbling over the fallen or running on open ground, the creatures were aimed like weapons towards the next line of soldiers.

With the wraiths at his side, the resurrection man studied the field and watched for a need for his special unit. Like the others he had died in the past, but Palose had been brought back as a resurrection man. Unlike the others, his soul was intact as was his body. Palose also knew that he had a soul because only the living could call back the dead or create more resurrection men.

Many warlocks doubted that fact, but Palose knew it. Unlike the red eyed undead serving him, the mage shared a bond with five others like him. All were resurrected men and women. The three wizards' magic had fed his as had the power of the warlock who had called him back to life. That man had turned against his creation and died letting Palose take all of his remaining magic.

The rest of his creations served him, but as friends; and Palose cared for them, especially the beautiful Sylvaine.

It was still early in the day when the dark mage felt a strange sensation in his chest. His score of undead finished off a small group of Sileoth defenders cut off from their lines before he stopped the creatures once more. Calling the two wights to him Palose knew that they were intelligent enough to be left in charge. They had been good soldiers and ones from Ensolus, who he had known before they died.

"I need to return to Ensolus for a time. Hold the others here or fall back so that I can form a portal safely.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," the mage finished receiving slightly confused looks from the two wights.

Balish nodded. The dead man looked almost the way he had before death. A blade into his chest had killed him cleanly and the magic had bound that wound like a wizard's healing spell. "We will hold our position until you return, sir."

The other wight nodded as well, but said nothing. He had been a quiet man in life as well, so it wasn't surprising to Palose.

Gesturing and chanting a short spell, the dark mage opened a portal back to his house in Ensolus. Disappearing from the battle field, it was almost a shock returning to the dim light of the home tucked inside the cave city.

His eyes readjusted and Palose quickly counted the five heads of his little clan. "Are you all right?"

The male wizards Dorgred and Wendle looked about right to his eyes, though they were seated and looked a little tired. It was still morning in Ensolus and earlier than the distant battle field of Litsarin's west coast. Talia, the tallest of the women stood beside the cook stove preparing something that had herbs that his nose caught quickly. They were strong enough to wake the dead, he thought in amusement.

Little Stasia was asleep, though from the feeling he received from the shared bond, the mage wondered if it was something more.

A curly, dark haired, young woman dressed in a short night dress tried to stand up from where she sat beside the little, sleeping blonde. Her legs wouldn't support her; so Sylvaine was forced to remain seated.

His beloved looked exhausted, but she answered, "We were attacked."

"What!?" he blurted without letting her finish. It was an instinctual reaction, but out of character for the normally even keel young man. Some of the changes he often noted in himself were likely remnants of his former master in him. Atrouseon had been much more volatile and that was part of why Palose had eventually been forced to kill the man.

"Someone opened the portal," Dorgred, a burly wizard with a thick, dark beard spoke up first. He tossed a large broken nut shell towards the mage and continued, "These were thrown through the doorway. Both light and minor small explosions stunned us for moment before we were all knocked unconscious."