Spellscribed: Conviction (28 page)

Using his blood, he started drawing in the arcane script and lines to construct a spell circle around his position. His newfound healing ability proved to be a detriment, as it caused him to heal so fast that his bleeding stopped within a few seconds and it was necessary to continually reopen the wound. He finished the circle, and touched the edge of the innermost line of blood, pushing a touch of power through it.

He had made the circle to work in layers; the concentric rings of lines and worked arcane language were some of the most complex he had ever devised. Yet they came as naturally to him as if he had spent years studying the discipline. Those bracers were terrifyingly useful things. The innermost layer screened the power flowing over the circle, repelling the chaotic patterns of power that would interfere with the spell’s efficacy.

Once the screen was in place, Endrance powered up the remaining two layers.  The lines written in blood glowed with an faint golden light, at first nearly lost in the constantly changing brilliance of colors caused by the rift. Slowly, the light around the circle started to normalize. The ground rumbled, and Talos had to steady himself as the both of them experienced the strange sensation of falling upwards.

“Here we go!” Endrance exclaimed.

Colorless light expanded through the area, dimming to a more tolerable level. The strange sensation increased, and both Endrance and Talos’ feet left the floor as they seemed to have lost any semblance of gravity.

And then, with a quiet thump, the chunk of reality slipped into the place it should have always been, and both Endrance and the Archmagus were flung bodily into the air as if from a catapult; stone rubble and other debris clattering up with them as they flew.

“By all Magic!” Talos shouted. They sailed up several dozen meters. Endrance glimpsed down, and saw that the courtyard appeared to have reverted to normal; the floor was no longer caved into the basement.

The Archmagus threw his hands out, and several small tattoos on his back lit up as he activated a spell. Endrance felt air wrap around the two of them, cushioning them and slowing their fall. It was still daytime, and though the dark storm clouds had not yet receded, they were far thinner than they had been when Endrance had found Wayrest burning.

They hit the ground softly, and the spell dissipated. Endrance observed that no one was around.

Endrance turned to Talos. “Well, that was effective.” He said, embarrassed.

Talos raised an eyebrow, looking at him quizzically. “What was that?” He asked, pointing to the blackened and burnt up smear of ash that was once the spell Endrance had wrought.

“A dimensional anchor.” Endrance explained. “Summoners sometimes need them to keep an area stable when they’re summoning particularly large demons. They help reinforce the separation between our world and the other side.”

“Couldn’t that have just… closed the hole?” Talos asked.

“No, I have reason to believe that, because air was flooding into the space and circulating, we were still connected to our realm despite being pushed into another. Like a dimple on the surface of a stretched out sheet.” Endrance reasoned, hoping his argument would sufficiently explain it.

Talos nodded, searching the surrounding area. “It seems that a few days have passed since you entered.”

Endrance sighed, rubbing at his face. “Well, I have to go find my companions now.”

Endrance!
Gullin’s voice blasted into his head.
You’ve returned!

The familiar soared in from up high, landing on a pile of debris to squawk excitedly at the wizard in his tripartite voice. Talos stared at the bird, surprised.

“You know, when Weldom said you had the Fjallar… I imagined him smaller.” Talos admitted, glancing at him.

“He gets bigger the more power I am able to store in my aura.” Endrance said. “Up to his true size, of course.”

Joven and the others are resting nearby.
Gullin advised him.
I am glad to see that you are alive and well.

“I wonder what size that is.” Talos asked.

Endrance shrugged. “If the fevered hallucinations of the night that the summoning spell carved itself on my back can be trusted, about sixteen yards tall, from claw to beak. I’m pretty sure the wingspan would fit under the category of enormous.”

“Well, I can tell you with certainty, that the Fjallar is officially the most powerful familiar I’ve ever encountered, seen, or read about.” Talos admitted. He walked slowly up to the great bird. “May I?” he asked.

Who is this human and why is he reaching for me?
Gullin asked, eyeing the Archmagus suspiciously.
He says nice things about me, but I do not trust him.

Endrance chuckled.
That’s the Archmagus of my order.
Endrance explained.
I think he wants to pet you.

Pet me?
The bird asked incredulously.
What am I, a household canary?

Just… humor him?

Talos reached out, and the familiar did not try to bite off his hand. Talos ran the palm of his hand along the side of Gullin’s head and stroked the feathers of his neck. The bird let out a coo, closing his eyes.

Actually… This feels kind of nice.
The bird admitted.

“This is a magnificent bird.” Talos stated. “Very powerful. I can feel the most primal elements of fire within his breast.”

“Thank you.” Endrance said. “Gullin has been a strong companion of mine since the day we met, though at the time he was a wee little ball of fluff.”

That was not my fault.
Gullin protested.
You were barely capable of drawing my essence to your realm.

“You’ve grown much since then, it seems.” Talos observed.

“Gullin said my companions are nearby.” Endrance offered. “We should go and meet them.”

Talos turned from the bird and shook his head. “I can’t.” he said. “I’ve been gone too long. I’ll need to make sure everything is going well at Ironsoul, and check on the old lizard. He gets grumpy without someone to talk to sometimes.”

“I know.” Endrance said, rolling his eyes. “Basically exiled me to Salthimere for a few years.”

Talos looked surprised. “Oh. So that’s how you got down here.” He said. “Well, it’s only three years. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot.”

“It would be faster if I could just teleport there.” Endrance grumbled.

“Well, the problem is that no one’s been there that could teleport, much less do so and come back alive.” Talos explained. “And if you had done so, who knows how long it would have taken me to get back. Years at minimum.” He shuddered. “Ugh. Weldom would have set the Circle on its ear trying to take control.”

“I guess there needs to be a mage who is clearly the most powerful, to polarize the leadership among the Circle?” Endrance asked.

Talos nodded. “More powerful, or more clever than the rest, at least.” He admitted.

The Archmagus turned to him. “One more thing before I go.” He said. He spoke a few words, formed the proper mudras and shifted a barely perceptible amount of power as he cast a spell. At the end of the spell, he pointed at Endrance. Seemingly spun out of the very scattered sunlight, threads of gold were woven into a long sash. Upon it were not three, but five sigils of mastery in black threads.

The sash settled into Endrance’s hands. “There’s your new belt.” Talos stated. “You’ve proven to me beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you have mastery over the Ruby Chalice and the Iron Gate. I grant to you the next two sigils of mastery.”

“This is… a gold sash.” Endrance stammered.

Talos raised a tattooed eyebrow. “You noticed? There’s hope for you yet.”

“An emissary’s sash.” Endrance murmured. “It’s official, huh?”

“Yes.” Talos replied. “And I wish I had been there to talk the old dragon down to a somewhat lesser sentence.”

“I see now why you weren’t there.” Endrance reasoned. “I understand. Can we keep in contact while I’m in Salthimere?”

“Traditionally, no.” Talos replied. “The borders of Salthimere have been protected by their magic for as long as humans can remember. Any spell crossing the barrier gets torn apart.”

Endrance considered. “What about conjured creatures? I don’t want Gullin to have a problem crossing into their country.”

Talos shook his head. “I don’t know.” He replied. “I may be the Archmagus, but that doesn’t mean I know everything.”

Endrance chuckled. “It just means you know
most
things.”

The Archmagus gave him a wink. “Well, I’m sure that when you get to be my age, you’ll have also learned a few new things.” He sighed. “I have to go. Weldom’s probably throwing out my furniture as we speak.”

“Thank you, Archmagus.” Endrance said, bowing. “I’m grateful for all you’ve already done for me.”

The Archmagus shook his head, several of his tattoos lighting up. “I’ve hardly had to do anything for you, Endrance. You inherited quite a bit from Valeria. I think you’re going to be fine, if you can manage to use these gifts for yourself, instead of for your mother.”

Talos’ skin blackened, matching in color to his tattoos, until all that remained were the glowing lines of the activated spell. The light faded, and his silhouette faded.

“That… was freaking weird, even for me.” Endrance muttered. He turned to his familiar.

Let’s get going.
Endrance said.

Good.
Gullin replied, fluffing his feathers.
Tanya was disappointed to find you missing.

Wait… Tanya?
Endrance asked, perplexed.

The suns’ rays poured down upon them, the heat baking the dry, sandy soil beneath the hooves of their horses. Endrance shielded his eyes as he looked over at his friends. Joven, Bridget, Tanya, and Selene slumped on their horses, their clothes damp with sweat, while they grumbled along on the path. Behind them, the rolling green hills were but a splash of color in the distance.

“Hey, you guys all right?” Endrance asked.

Joven wiped sweat from his eyes. “It’s too damn hot.” He complained, squinting in the light reflected off the earth.

“We’re approaching the Sunken Tower.” Endrance called back. The rest of the group had trailed behind him, the mage being the only one doing all right in the increased heat. His warmth spell turned out to be relatively helpful, once he had adjusted it to a lower temperature. Cool, refreshing air circulated around and across his skin. Only the heat of the suns beat down upon him. “It’s the last bastion of Ironsoul’s territory.”

“But why is it so hot?” Tanya asked. She had apparently changed her mind, and caught up with them as they had been trying to figure out how to rescue Endrance from the rift. Something along her journey home had reminded her why she had chosen to join them in the first place.

“It gets hotter the further south you go.” Endrance called back. “Just the way it is. We’ve not even gotten to the hottest part yet.”

Selene had her shirt unbuttoned far more than would be considered decent in popular society, droplets of sweat glistening on her exposed-

Endrance turned away, blushing. No matter how often he saw her, his heart thumped when she smiled at him. And when she did more than smile… he found his heart pounded like he was in danger. Which he assumed, in some ways, he was. He loved her, but her other half’s rapidly increasing influence gave him more and more moments when he wondered how much of the girl he had fallen in love with had remained.

His cheek twitched with that thought. He wasn’t someone to be talking. He, himself, had turned out to be only half human, too; though his arcane half was a bit less vocal than Selene’s demonic half. How much of his original self would be left as his transformation continued? He wasn’t even sure his mind hadn’t already been permanently altered.

Even if it had though, he had the free will to choose. And he chose to resist Valeria and his Mercanian father’s influence. He didn’t know what they had in mind for him, but Valeria had seemed to have no good plans in mind. Moreover, he was not inclined to do anything she wanted. He always wondered why she hadn’t instead, just tried to talk to him. Or gods forbid, to raise him. It probably had something to do with her being dead.

“But why is it so hot?” Tanya asked again.

Endrance rolled his eyes, shrugging. “I don’t know, why is it so cold in Balator?”

Tanya was silent for a few minutes as they rode in silence. “It’s high up?” she called.

“That has an effect on it, yes.” Endrance replied, calling back. Giselle looked at him, panting heavily. Endrance opened his waterskin and handed it to her. She took several tiny sized gulps before sighing, handing it back to him, and resumed panting.

“So, is it so hot because it’s lower down?” Tanya continued. Endrance thought for a few moments, and tried to figure out how to explain it. The tower seemed still in the distance, hours of riding away, though it was in sight. The vast amount of open space on all sides of the Sunken Tower made it an easily defended edifice, and its location between Ironsoul and Salthimere made it a natural place for the two kingdoms to meet peacefully. Though diplomatically useful, it was still a stone building several days walk through scorched earth to anyone who approached.

To that end, it seemed a good analogy to the state of affairs between Ironsoul and Salthimere: Hot, angry and barren of anything helpful for either side. Endrance wiped the sweat from his face, certain he had his work cut out for him.

“It might be a little bit hotter, but I think this has more to do with it being just the way this area is.” Endrance finally explained. “I don’t know enough about geography to really have the answer here.”

“Other than it’s hotter than a demon’s ass?” Bridget exclaimed. She then glanced over to Selene with a flinch. “Sorry.”

Selene blushed, but Endrance laughed. “It is pretty hot, I’ll admit.” He called back, winking at Selene. She nodded her head to him, a faint smile on her face as the blush quickly faded. She was getting better at taking Bridget’s good natured ribbing; Bridget would find Selene returning fire soon enough.

They pushed on into the late evening. The ride was easier as the suns went down and the sky went dark. The light colored, sandy earth was easy to see by moonlight, but Endrance wanted to be sure they could see their way and threw up a highly powered starlight spell. Globes of light the size of robin’s eggs scattered out hundreds of feet in every direction, suffusing the dry scrublands with an ever present whitish glow that cleanly illuminated their path as they rode on. Endrance tried the trick he had performed when he had fought the wolfmen at the reservoir, and achieved a moderate success. Soon, there was a slow moving nimbus of lights merrily bobbing through the air around them in a vague puffy disk.

They were at first relieved by how quickly the desert got cold, but as the night continued on, they realized that it was getting as cold as many Balatoran nights. Endrance and Giselle were fine, one due to his magic, and the other due to her fur coat, but the others were reaching for their cloaks and coats only two hours into the night.

The tower seemed to be just across the way, within bow shot of where they were, but as they rode on, it seemed just as distant. Endrance looked up at the night sky.

Gullin?
Endrance asked.

Yes, Endrance?
His familiar replied. The Fjallar seemed to be the only one who had enjoyed the heat and was generally unphased by the cold night air.

Fly ahead and tell me how far from the tower we are.
Endrance commanded.
We’ve been approaching for hours and it seems no closer than before.

Gullin was quiet overhead, only able to be tracked visually by the faint flickering flames in the dark night. The trail of flames disappeared into the distance as he investigated. Minutes later, he came back into sight, swooping in low.

I see the problem.
Gullin replied.
You are making progress.

What’s going on?
Endrance asked.
Is it some kind of illusion?

No,
Gullin responded.
The tower appeared to be close because of how big it is.

Wait… the tower is so big that it seems full size from here?
Endrance asked, confused.

Indeed. You are only an hour away.
Gullin replied.

“We’re getting close.” Endrance said, “Only about an hour.”

“That’s a huge building.” Joven admitted, looking up at it. “And we’re still an hour away?”

“Yep.”

* * *

The tower was beyond what they had considered huge. They were within a hundred feet of the building, and saw that it was easily three hundred feet tall, and looked strangely squat, being almost three times that in diameter. The ‘tower’ was circular, the sides curving away from them.

A company of soldiers on foot marched out to meet them. Fifty men in light steel armor and armed with shields, spears, and javelins waited in formation between them and the tower. At their head, a deeply tanned man in dun-colored armor plates stood proudly, the only weapon at his side a simple looking longsword.

Endrance saw they had brought out torches on long stalks, stabbing them into the dirt to remain upright. He reached out mentally, found the thread connecting the light spell, and canceled the effect. The lights winked out, one by one, as the power he invested in the spell was used up.

“Sir Mage.” The commander said, taking a step forward. “We have been expecting your arrival.”

Endrance surveyed the company of men, armed to the teeth with weapons of the close and long range variety, and raised an eyebrow.

“That is true, but your appearances make me wonder what kind of expectations you have of me.”

The commander bowed his head. “My apologies, Sir Mage.” The man said. His voice was deep and it had a rough burr that indicated either years of smoking or a long healed neck injury. “But we could only see a cluster of lights approaching the tower, and knew not that it was only you, and not a raiding party or attacking force.”

Endrance hesitated. “Oh.” He murmured. “Then it seems that I owe you all an apology. I didn’t give you any notice of my intentions, and I can see how this could be misinterpreted.

“You are wise and gracious, Sir Mage.” The commander replied with a tight smile. “I am Captain Dullahan. of the first ambassadorial regiment.”

“I’m Endrance of Balator.” Endrance introduced himself, inclining his head. “Thank you for your patience.”

“Great.” Captain Dullahan said dryly. “I’ll inform Lady Alana of your arrival.”

Endrance nodded, dismounting. “Thank you. Stables?”

Dullahan waved, and several armored men and women marched forward to take the reins of their horses. “We’ll stable them inside. Please follow me.”

The rest of the group dismounted and the soldiers approached, but three of them scattered when they saw Giselle, backing away and pointing their spears at her.

“Wolfman!” one of them exclaimed, surprised.

“Whoa!” Endrance shouted, dashing around the horses to shield the girl. “Don’t hurt her! This is my charge!”

“She’s a wolfman!” The same soldier that had shouted before added. His spear point was only a few inches from Endrance’s gut, but the man didn’t lower his weapon.

“She’s a child!” Endrance shouted back at the man, his temper rising. “I promised I would look after her, and I will do everything in my power to do so. Do you have a problem with that?”

The man seemed to have finally realized that he was yelling at a wizard. The fact that several of Endrance’s spell tattoos gleamed with light probably helped curb his disposition.

Before the man could apologize, Captain Dullahan walked up to his subordinate and struck him in the side of the head with a powerful punch. The soldier hit the sand hard, crashing onto his back and dropping his spear.

“How dare you point a weapon at a wizard of the Circle!” Dullahan roared, his hands balled into fists. “Threatening a mage carries the highest of punishments!”

The captain turned to Endrance. “I’m sorry, Sir Mage.” He replied. “I’ll have him executed immediately.”

Endrance paled. “Whoa there!” he exclaimed. “You don’t need to kill the man!” He shook his head, unbelieving how seriously the captain was taking the man’s actions. He had weapons pointed at him all the time in Balator, and had gotten used to it.

Dullahan looked at him, confused. “You… are not offended?” he asked.

Endrance sighed. “No. He wasn’t trying to threaten me.” He explained. “Though I don’t appreciate having spears pointed at me, I don’t think that you should kill the man for forgetting who he was pointing his weapon at.”

Dullahan nodded. “You are also forgiving.” He looked down at the soldier. “You are given a pass,” the captain ordered. “Turn yourself in to the prison. A night in a cell should help you think about how lucky you are.”

The soldier nodded, handing his equipment to another soldier as he turned to trot towards the tower. Endrance watched the man go, confused. “Is that how Alana runs things here?” he asked, scratching his head.

Dullahan spoke, never taking his eyes off the retreating soldier. “She merely enforces the law set down by the kingdoms. A mage is too valuable a person to risk allowing them to be injured or killed.”

Endrance closed his eyes, thinking. “I didn’t realize how literally everyone took that.” Endrance murmured, thinking about Kaelob’s instructions. The way he had said it made Endrance feel that he had been exaggerating to impress him; but now that he’d seen the law in action, he could see that the crazy mage had been nothing but honest with him.

“You are a kind man.” Dullahan said in a low tone, matching Endrance’s murmur. “I am glad I will not be losing a valuable man today.”

Endrance opened his eyes and looked about at the group. Joven was standing directly beside him. He had probably been there since the moment the man had leveled the spear at him. Endrance had not been in any danger from the beginning, but it would be difficult to explain that to the captain. Selene stood at his other side, holding Giselle in her arms; though only her companions would notice the reddening of her pupils as she prepared for a potential outburst of violence.

He looked behind, and saw Tanya had an arrow knocked, but undrawn, on her horn bow, with Bridget standing just out of the way, both her cleaving swords naked to the moons light. It looked like they were ready to take on the whole platoon, if need be. Above them, Gullin circled, ready to rain fire down on the assembled enemy.

“I am glad that it did not come down to violence.” Endrance said. “I think it would have turned out badly for everyone.”

“Please, follow me.” Captain Dullahan entreated, turning and leading the way towards the tower. The group picked up their gear and followed. Endrance walked with his Grandstaff in his right hand, both enjoying the strange, crackling tingle of the electrically charged grip, and the deepening pulse of the presence within it making contact with the earth every time he touched the butt end down.