Secrets of Arkana Fortress (50 page)

              The next question was how to get rid of the protective barrier around the mages and the spire. A plan would have been formulated, he hoped, if they had remained unseen, but they were now at a loss; fighting for their lives, not to mention the lives of all in Salarias. What could they to do now? Retreat was certainly no option.

              Mikos suddenly noticed that Vicana’s body had gone, an element of disarray left in her stead. Where was she? He knew that he had gotten through to her before, but had it been enough to impair her judgement?

              After leaping across parts of uneven ground, and slipping along unimaginably smooth surfaces he was shot in the side by a bolt of energy. He toppled over clutching his gut as the pain slowly grew, a burning sensation that crawled over his torso like a forest fire quickly rolling across him. It was all he could do to hold back a high pitched scream as he writhed on the floor. With strained eyes he looked up, teeth clenched, at Vicana who stood with her staff poised, the orb on top of it pulsating with life.

              There was a shade of doubt on her face, her beauty still shining through like a beacon regardless of the situation. He could see it clearly.

              ‘You’re doubting it all, aren’t you?’ he said, forcing the words out through the veil of pain reaching into his mind.

              ‘Shut the fuck up!’ Vicana screamed, marching over to him and promptly thrashing his weakened side with the end of her staff.

              Mikos bit his lip, wincing from incredible pain. ‘Vicana…’

              Another stout whack.

              This time he yelled out. Not even the chill in the cavern touched the heat searing across his body.

             
‘Come on, Mikos, get it together,’
he told himself. He mentally soothed his body, willing it to stop hurting. Mind over matter, mind over matter.

              ‘Not too chatty now are you, mage?’ Vicana sneered, spittle shooting from her words.

              He looked around for his sword, but could not see where it had landed after he had fallen. Damn it. What was he to do now?

              Vicana said something under her breath, something dark and alien. Was she gathering magic for a fancy execution? Maybe his pleading had pissed her off to such a dangerous level that she was feeling vengeful? She smacked Mikos again, and again, and again. She brought her staff back for a fourth blow.

              Mikos grabbed the bottom of it with his hand, pushing it back with everything he had. His foot swung around from the floor and he booted her in the stomach, shoving her back while he still gripped her weapon. His other hand closed around the staff as well and he used his momentum to push it away, hitting Vicana in the face.

              She yelped as something cracked – probably her nose. A growl emanated from her throat as she tugged her staff free of Mikos’s grip, stumbling back a little. Before she knew what was going on he was upon her, smacking her in the jaw with his fist and then working her stomach. She was not built for such physicality. He was pushing her back further and further, beating her repeatedly. She felt something else crack in her face, the resultant pain causing her to retaliate with one powerful burst of energy.

              Mikos flew through the air as a shockwave exploded from Vicana’s staff. He landed on his back, his body bouncing slightly from the speed of his fall. He gasped as pain shot up his spine and around his hips. If only he had agility like that of a feline then he would have landed with more grace and less pain – he was not strong enough to deal with a highly powerful and experienced wielder of magic.

              He looked over at Byde who was now in close quarters with Blaigen, a watery shield and sword in his hands fending off two flaming blades. It was certainly a new sight – he had never expected Byde to be able to wield a sword efficiently.

              Now it was back to his problem.

              He stood slowly, his head spinning. Through the dazed haze in front of his eyes he watched Vicana gather herself; the orb on her staff was shining brightly, magic quivering around it in an impressive array of colours.

              It suddenly hit him that he was about to meet his end, the energy inside him having gone, sapped out by the agony that covered his body. He held his head as his legs swayed, unsteady like the crumbling foundations of an ancient ruin after an earthquake. His stomach churned with nausea and cramp. Flashes of his past flew through his mind – memories of his father, his home, his travels, friends… and of Anna. He wondered how she would react. They had always had a soft spot for each other, but it had been nothing more than sibling-like love. He closed his eyes tightly as he slinked into his memories, a warm embrace wrapping around his mind.

              Silently, he prayed.

***

Within the obsidian veil a distant, yet familiar voice spoke in an ancient tongue. Words flashed forward, scrolling through the blackness in bright shades of gold and silver, casting lights over nothing but emptiness. A second voice joined in; a third, fourth; many more saying the same words over and over again. They stumbled over each other, nothing being uttered in any sort of unison or cohesion.

              Images began to flash in and out of view, blurring as they went. They bore the mark of the past – people, locations, battles, and everyday life. None of it was in any kind of order, but it somehow made sense.

              Suddenly there was a wave of emotion to accompany the pouring of knowledge. Tinges of duty, honour, and loyalty spread across the void like a tsunami. Following it was the essence of peace and happiness, off-set by its counterparts of anger, regret and sadness.

              It all merged into one giant stew pot. It swirled, blended, and then became clear.

              There was a realisation; a revelation. This was what it was… what it had always been. The past, present, and future were all one, merging together to make a single, wise, and knowledgeable form.

              A harsh, whispered voice rose from the background with a deep familial authority.
‘Make it a reality… it isn’t just a dream.’

***

Mikos’s eyes opened slowly, the events around him seemingly crawling as if time itself had stalled. It all seemed different in his mind’s eye. Clarity ensued with every glance – a clear, crisp vision and straightforward way of thinking. It was a stark contrast to the foggy haze that had loomed over him for the past few weeks.

              Suddenly time began to go back to normal and the imminent demise refocused in his head. His eyes locked onto Vicana as she unleashed an aggressive shot of magical energy; bright white and glowing with the ferocity of a star’s last burst of power before it died. What the hell was he to do?

              Instinctively he raised his free arm in a futile attempt of protecting himself from the blast. He could feel the heat of the magic edging closer and closer until the immense heat made him sweat, droplets sliding down his forehead and staining his cheeks with a salty film. He closed his eyes and wished he was back home by a roaring fire with a nice full glass of port and a good book.

              The force of the magic smacked into his arm, pushing him back on his feet. The heat grew and grew. Sweat oozed out of him. Then, as if the flames had been doused with water, the magic faltered and vanished, leaving him alive and scarcely hurt. Had Byde just saved his hide again?

              He cautiously opened his eyes again and froze on the spot, his legs like stone pillars. In front of his arm… no,
on
his arm was a black, oval shaped shield that flickered and sparkled as it absorbed Vicana’s magic like a sponge. What in the name of the gods was this? Where had the shield come from? It was then that he recalled the words he had heard in his head –
make it a reality… it isn’t just a dream
. Had he just made an illusion into something real? Surely not. What had he thought just before the magic had hit him? He… had wished for something to stop the mage’s attack and to protect him from harm. A shield had done exactly that.

              He peered over the top of the black metal and saw nothing but shock on Vicana’s face, which quickly turned into something with multiple shades of anger.

              ‘How did you do that, mage?’ she screamed as she thrust her staff forward and released a hail of magical arrows.

              Every single one of the projectiles homed in on him with deadly speed, but all of them were batted away by the shield with ease. A second onslaught followed, this time with more power to them. Mikos staggered back, clutching the shield. What was he to do now?

              Without a second thought he charged forward, feeling as unstoppable as a Bullwark on the warpath. He felt the ricochets of magic in front of him, but he set his mind on running and nothing else. He hoped Byde would have the same change in luck as he had done. He still could not believe what had happened. He thought that Byde’s words had meant nothing other than failure, but instead they had helped something hidden inside his own mind come forth; something from his caster heritage no doubt.

              A shield was perfect for defending against the magic, but he needed a weapon. The Faceless’s sword was now too far behind him. Maybe he could conjure a sword? Maybe another stroke of luck? He imagined a sword, strong and deadly. He prayed at the same time.

              He sensed the cold of a hilt forming in his other hand and quickly looked at the gleaming blade that was appearing out of nowhere. He drew breath, impressed with whatever it was that had unlocked his magic.

              He slammed into Vicana, sending her careening across the floor. He drew the shield back and stood dominantly over her. It had been a mistake. Her staff plunged itself into his stomach, knocking more than just the breath out of him. He winced at the pain and nearly doubled over.

              Vicana shot up from where she lay on the floor and swung her staff at his stomach for a second, vital blow. Mikos trotted back, the strain in his torso growing heavy, and flung his shield to the front to deflect her advancing strikes. She was certainly adept at using her staff as a weapon as she left him little room to counter attack. All he could think of was how to keep alive.

              Suddenly he shunted forward with the shield with all of his weight and strength, once again putting Vicana onto the floor. Her staff clattered to the floor and bounced around.

              There was a strong sound of distortion from behind. Mikos turned his head to see the barrier surging with spikes of electrical energy.

              The staff…

              With a strong fixation in his hazel eyes he went for it, nothing else mattering to him. He had made the connection quickly – destroy the staff and destroy the barrier.

              He tumbled onto his front as Vicana tripped him up, his face landing into a pool of water. The staff was only a few feet away from him and the orb was pulsating desperately. It must have been the source of the barrier’s power. He brought his sword up and went for it, every ounce of strength in his body focusing on this one strike.

              ‘Oh no you fucking don’t,’ Vicana growled as she stamped on the base of his back with her heel. She stepped forcefully over him and kicked her staff away before grabbing it up off the floor. Before she knew it, Mikos was up and on her again, his throat growling like a monster. A blade struck at her staff valiantly, but was fended off with the greatest of luck. She had grown tired, however, and was struggling to keep up the fight. Her face creased with fatigue.

              Then there was an incredible explosion.

              Vicana and Mikos were thrown in opposite directions across the cavernous room, Vicana slamming into the wall, which instantly rendered her unconscious. Mikos spun in the air, his sword and shield disappearing back into the nothingness they had emerged from. He rolled across the uneven floor as he landed, somewhat convinced that he had just broken his arm from the fall. A sharp pain travelled along his arm like a fork of lightning, fast and potent. His face twisted in agony, a mighty ache in the very depths of his mind.

              He had never been in so much physical distress before.

              With a push of unconscious resolve he prized his eyes apart to check on the spire’s barrier. A pang of relief etched across his whole body as he saw a series of magical charges fizzle and flash before a final bright light exploded. The barrier had to have gone down.

              Whatever had happened had caused Byde and Blaigen stop their fight momentarily before carrying on.

              All Mikos had to do now was take out the mages.

***

It was unwavering – strike after strike, him on the back foot, deflecting fiery blows from every angle. Byde was surprised he was keeping up with Blaigen’s tireless charge; his sharp, fixated moves were swift and powerful, obviously enhanced by some kind of magic. This Blaigen was a versatile mage, but seemed to specialise in fire magic, which seemed to match his quick temper. Byde’s continued refusal to let his flaming swords anywhere near was visually agitating him.