Spellscribed: Conviction (45 page)

Endrance blinked, looking the man over. “My sentence was to serve as ambassador for three years, not directly to secure the peace agreement and then return. I will remain here for my three years.”

Ethan grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ugh.” He grumbled. “That sounds like a chore.”             

“Are you all right?” Endrance asked. “You hurt or something? I can heal it.”

The mercenary shook his head. “No. I’m fine. Just tired and confused. You confuse me.” He said. “It was like, two years ago, when I last saw you worrying about a dozen goblins, and now here you are saving our kingdom from the elves.”

Endrance sighed, clapping the man on the shoulder. He hesitated for just a second before speaking. “It’s not that I’ve grown up all that much, Ethan.” He said, letting go of his friend’s shoulder. “It’s that I’ve learned a lot since that day. And you know how we wizards get when we learn things.”

“Yeah.” Ethan said, smiling weakly. “You get to be a big pain in our asses.”

Endrance laughed, though the Draugnoa were able to tell that he was faking it. “That we are.” The mage replied. “You go rest up, and meet me in Salthimere in two days. I’ll have these responses prepared for you.”

Ethan glanced at the Draugnoa and the elves standing unobtrusively nearby. “Sure thing.” He said with a smile.

Endrance gestured to Lior as Ethan walked back into the outpost. The Sha’hdi approached cautiously. “Yes, Ambassador?” he asked.

“I want you to keep an eye on him.” Endrance whispered. “I think Ethan isn’t all he seems to be.”

“Is he dangerous?” Lior asked, his eyes narrowing.

Endrance nodded. “Assume so, but don’t let on that you’re aware of it. I need to test something.”

Lior turned from him without acknowledging, and swiftly stalked over to a comrade to exchange whispers. Endrance looked at his Draugnoa and tilted his head towards the horses. “Let’s get going back.” He said. “But we don’t have to rush.”

They saddled up and rode out in silence, until the outpost was out of sight. Endrance rode in front, flanked on the left by Selene, right by Bridget and Tanya rode to the rear. Endrance was riding without steering, letting the two Draugnoa guide his horse. His expression was clouded with conflicting emotions and deep thoughts.

“What was that about?” Bridget demanded, her patience worn thin.

Endrance looked over to her, still sullen. “I think Ethan is working for Valeria.” He declared, sighing.

“What?” Tanya asked. “How can you tell?”

“Well, his actions have been suspicious since I was imprisoned at the Circle Tower.” Endrance started. “But, I think it all fell into place when I touched him.”

“Touched him?” Selene asked.

“You know what I mean.” Endrance grumbled. “He had a magic aura, and he was aware when I detected it.”

“So do you think he was dominated like that masked mage was?” Selene asked.

Endrance nodded. “I hope so.” He said. “I don’t want to think that he’s doing this willingly.”

“So what do we do?” Bridget asked. “Can we kick his ass?”

“Yeah.” Endrance said. “We can, once I have a plan for what to do after that.”

“Just yank out those metal things.” Bridget replied. “That should stop it, right?”

“Unless it kills him.” Endrance snapped in response. “I don’t want him to die if he’s been forced into it.”

“What about if he was doing it willingly?” Selene asked.

“Then I’m going to send him back with a message for Valeria.” Endrance said, his voice almost a growl.

* * *

Ethan rode over a hill top on Joven’s borrowed horse. He stopped as he crested the hill, and found Endrance standing on the grass at the bottom, looking up at him expectantly. Ethan frowned and rode down the hill cautiously towards him.

“What are you doing without anyone else?” Ethan asked. “Where’s your horse?”

Endrance adjusted his grip on his staff. “I let them continue home. I wanted to talk to you for a moment before things got… ugly.”

“Ugly?” Ethan said, furrowing his brow. “I don’t understand.”

Endrance shook his head. “Let’s drop the pretenses here, Ethan. I respect you too much to dance around the issues here.”

Ethan was silent.

“Are you working for Valeria?” Endrance asked.

Ethan sighed. “I knew this would happen.” He muttered.

In a flash, Ethan drew his sword and swung at Endrance, who did not move to defend himself. The sword passed straight through him like he was nothing more than smoke; the image of him distorting only slightly as the sword passed.

Endrance hung his head. “I was afraid that it would come to this.”

Ethan glowered at the illusion. “Show yourself!” he shouted.

“Sure thing.” Endrance said, he looked to his left. “Do it.” He said.

Ethan looked the way Endrance did, when he felt a sudden jarring impact and the world spun. Suddenly he realized he was lying on his back, and his sword arm had gone numb. Turning his head, he saw half the shaft of an arrow protruding from his breastplate at the shoulder, the reddish feathers only inches from his armor. The arrowhead had punched out his back plate and stuck out a good several inches.

The horse reared and trotted off several paces. Endrance’s illusion shook his head. “Damn.” He said. “I think you managed to shatter both his collarbone and shoulder blade with that shot.”

Ethan struggled to rise. “Ethan, please stop.” He pleaded.

“I can’t.” Ethan growled through gritted teeth. “I won’t.”

Endrance looked pained. “Other shoulder, please.” He stated reluctantly.

Ethan tried to pull his shield up, but another arrow appeared from nowhere, crossed the distance and hit him hard enough to knock him onto his back again.

“Please surrender.” Endrance asked.

“I can’t!” Ethan shrieked, sitting up again. He had somehow managed to not drop his sword.

Endrance appeared to dig something out of his pocket, and handed it to an invisible subject next to him. “Within fifteen feet.” He said.

Ethan was able to stand, just as something wooden hit the ground at his feet. Looking down, Ethan saw that it was a wooden disk with arcane script and sigils carved into it. There was also a red target painted on it.

“Do it.” Endrance said. Ethan lurched to the right.

Tanya’s arrow hit the wooden counter spell tablet and broke it, releasing the spell within. An immense burst of counter magic erupted out from the wooden token, the energy destroying Endrance’s illusion and knocking Ethan onto the ground again. This time, he only lay on the ground, screaming in pain.

The edge of the counter spell struck a second illusion, and Endrance dropped the camouflage he had been using. The wizard, his Draugnoa, and the horses had been hidden only a hundred feet further down the hill. Tanya was still mounted, another arrow knocked and ready to fire. Bridget walked up to Ethan, and kicked the sword from his nerveless fingers.

Endrance walked up alongside Selene. “Flip him.” He said.

“There’s… arrows in him… you know.” Selene said.

“I can heal it if I need to, now flip him please.” Endrance said, his expression surprisingly harsh and determined. Selene tried to flip Ethan onto his stomach as gently as possible, but it wasn’t going to be painless. Ethan continued to scream, his voice already going hoarse.

Endrance drew one of his antler-handled knives, and with Selene and Bridget’s help, cut Ethan’s armor off of him. The back plate gone, he slipped his knife under the mercenary’s collar and sliced the cloth away all the way down to his belt.

There were five twisted, blackened, iron bits of metal embedded in Ethan’s back. Endrance recognized them from the bits of metal Joven had shown him before; carved and empowered with symbols of domination and enslavement. Those bits would take away a person’s will, and make them a living puppet of the creator of those spikes.

Endrance reached down and touched one of them, his fingertips tingling with the magic on the spike. “It’s disrupted.” He said. “However, I don’t know if they’ll stay that way.”

“Pull ‘em out while they don’t work, then.” Bridget said.

“I don’t…” Endrance murmured. “I need to know more before…”

Bridget reached down with her wooden arm and grasped the one on the base of his neck. She yanked before Endrance could stop her, pulling the twin spokes of the spike free with a spurt of blood and clear fluid. Ethan’s voice had given out screaming, but Selene had to struggle to keep him from thrashing around.

“Shit!” Endrance cried. “Pull the rest then!” he closed his eyes and concentrated on his new healing spell. Life magic was difficult for him to cast still, but he was able to work it with Pentarch’s help. Bridget swiftly grabbed and pulled out the remaining four spikes. She checked his pant line and found one more, and pulled that one out, too. Blood and some kind of clear liquid were pooling along the line of his spine.

Endrance finished the healing spell and discharged it into Ethan’s back. Life energy, supplemented by time magic, went to work; closing the wounds and regenerating lost blood and tissue. Tanya pulled the two arrows the rest of the way through Ethan’s body, and those wounds healed, too. Ethan’s struggles stopped, and he lay in the grass, panting.

“Now what?” Selene asked, letting him go.

“He’s alive, so I guess we take him back with us.” Endrance said. “Put him over the spare horse.”

* * *

Ethan regained consciousness half way to Salthimere. Endrance left him tied to his saddle, and was able to talk to him for hours as they returned to their home. He was able to learn what Valeria had Ethan doing, and was surprised by how haphazard her orders had been. Several of the orders were countermanding a previous order, given not a week prior. It was almost like two different people were in charge.

Ethan also revealed that there was a second litch under Valeria’s control; the one that had captured him. There was a possibility of there being more, though, as Ethan had heard of more than one mage disappearing since his capture. His memory was fuzzy though, so he couldn’t provide accurate details.

His willingness to help, and the candid revelation of Valeria’s activities, helped Endrance conclude that he had could be saved. When they returned to Salthimere, he had Ethan handed over to the embassy staff for care and recuperation.

Endrance finally returned to his home, nearly three days from when he left, and was overjoyed to see that he had missed very little. Valzoa came to meet him that night, after he was unpacked.

“Endrance.” The elf said as he walked into the dining room. His outfit was gaudier than usual, and his hair was a matching emerald to his outfit.

“What… happened to your hair?” Endrance asked, dropping the apple he was about to bite into. The apple rolled over to Valzoa, who popped it into the air with a foot and caught it with his off hand.

“I had a date.” The elf said. “Glad to see you came back, though Joven seems to have lost some weight.”

Endrance chuckled and held out his hand. Valzoa plunked the apple into his hand and sat at the dining table, putting his boots up as he reclined.

“That’s Ethan, our messenger.” Endrance said. “Joven went back to Ironsoul.”

“Alone?”

“Gullin’s with him.”

“Ah. Why?”

“He’d apparently gotten someone pregnant, and he was going to be with the mother and baby.” Endrance said. “He’ll be fine.”

Valzoa nodded. “Why did you bring Ethan back with you then?” he asked.

Endrance took a bite of the apple, shrugging. “He was enslaved by Valeria.” He said. “Tried to kill me.”

Valzoa sat up straight, his boots hitting the floor. “What?” he demanded. “You brought a servant of Valeria here?”

“No.” Endrance said. “I removed the item she was using to enslave him.” He said, tossing a pouch on the table. The bag hit with a clink and sagged like it was full of irregular metal objects. “Some kind of puppetry spikes.”

Valzoa poked the bag, sensed the magic coming off the spikes, and left it on the table. “You got them all?” he asked.

“Yeah, I only sensed those.” Endrance answered. “And he became infinitely more cooperative after we removed them.”

“What are you going to do with those?” Valzoa asked, gesturing to the spikes.

Endrance shrugged. “Destroy them, I guess.”

Valzoa nodded. “Do that.” He said. “You’re going to stay here, yes?”

Endrance nodded. “Nothing’s changed. Joven gets two years to spend with his child, and I get to stay here in relative safety while I train.”

“Good.” Valzoa replied, pulling a scroll of parchment out. “Because Jalyin and I have decided on a new training regimen for the next year, and we want to start that tomorrow.”

Endrance nodded. “Now’s as good a time as any.” He said. “Let’s see it.”

Joven, bare-chested and wearing nothing but a pair of pants, looked out into the streets of Ironsoul and nodded grimly. The suns were just starting to rise in the horizon, the light spilling against the walls of the city and across the side of the mage’s tower. He had both been excited for, and dreaded this day. It was the day Endrance was to return. It had an air of change about it, and in the two years since he had been on his own, he had grown to like the peaceful life he had made.

Gwen stepped up to Joven and put a hand on his arm at the elbow. Joven looked down at her and gave her his signature smile. She smiled up at him, her hair grown out in the time since Endrance had last seen her. Her clothing was also more conservative, but only because it was difficult to find armor for pregnant women in Ironsoul. If she had been Balator, she would have found quite the array of highly effective belly armors for pregnant warriors, since the kingdom had experienced centuries of warriors too stubborn to stop fighting just because they were pregnant.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked. “I’ve seen that look on your face before.”

Joven shrugged. “Probably.”

“Yes, I have.” Gwen continued. “I remember now. It was the face you had when that huge firebird dropped you right in front of me from three stories up.”

Joven shook his head. “I don’t know how he thought I would have held on while rolling around in midair like that.”

“Well, he was being shot at.” Gwen added.

“How’s the kids?” Joven asked, changing the subject.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “I wish Daelen had inherited your temperament.” She complained. “He’s too much like me for my tastes.”

“You mean a two year old with a temper?” Joven joked, earning a punch in the arm.

“Shut it.” Gwen growled. “I didn’t join your family because you’re a good jokester.”

Joven shook his head, making a dissatisfied face. “Damn.” He said. “I guess that’s fine.”

“Gaelen’s fussy, but he’s starting to take after you, I guess, since he’s been much better behaved than your first son.”

Joven grunted, looking down at the city streets as civilians started moving below, going about their daily business. It took him weeks upon returning, but he eventually realized that their behavior was very similar to Balatoran citizens, with just a few changes to their attitudes due to the difference in culture. It made dealing with them a little easier.

“Endrance comes back today, yes?” she asked.

Joven nodded. “His creepy message spirit things told me they should make it here sometime today. They’re really looking forward to seeing the children.”

Gwen nodded. “They’re going to have to wait a month before they can see the next one.” She replied, unconsciously placing her hand on her stomach.

Joven scoffed. “Knowing Endrance, he probably figured out a spell that’d just pop it on out fully grown.”

Gwen’s face paled a little. “I… You know, I wouldn’t put that past a mage.” She admitted.

“Or probably easier to have him just take a look with magic and tell us if it’s going to be a boy or girl.” Joven added. “You know, since he’s a curious guy.”

“Him, or you?” Gwen asked.

“Both.”

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Endrance rode up into Ironsoul.

His time in Salthimere had been good to him. He had somehow grown an additional four inches in height, putting him just shy of six feet, and actually taller than Selene. His skin was tanned from the countless days spent meditating in the life magic grove, and his muscles had developed so well that he had little doubt that he was no longer going to be picked on by the Barbarians when he got home. He wore newly tailored clothing, short sleeved shirt, with well-tailored pants and custom boots. On his back were three gold embellished scroll cases, not just one. His hair had grown even longer, but he had copied a page from Valzoa and had his locks pushed back from his face by a simple silver circlet.

The spellscribing on his flesh had all but crumbled, leaving every line and tattoo on his surface meridians carved into him like he were a statue. He had added a few more spells, and there were even carved lines up his neck and around his temples. Surprisingly, the spell bracers still fit on his arms. If anything, they now fit better. They were snug, but were practically weightless and almost like a second skin to him.

His Grandstaff bobbed along while Endrance rode, floating through the air as if held by an invisible hand. The Draugnoa had actually gotten used to Endrance’s increasing weirdness over the years, and were utterly unphased by the animated object.

Tanya looked mostly the same, though her hard musculature had not softened, but rather became more streamlined. Her horn bow had more significant changes to it, with arcane script stained into the horn, both up and down the bow’s length. The bowstring was slightly thicker, and appeared to be made of thin strands of milky white steel cord. Even her arrows were fitted with some of Gullin’s shed feathers, and the shafts were made of perfectly straight, yet flexible wood, grown specifically by the elves for such a powerful bow.

Bridget rode before Endrance, her armor and weapons the same, save that her armor had several leather pouches worked into it, where she kept various seeds and materials. Her wooden arm remained, a choice entirely of her making. Though with Endrance’s help, she had managed to graft a few plants of her choice into the upper arm and forearm of the wooden limb. They had been yet to flourish, but Endrance had seen an elf do something similar and it would take months, if not years, for them to flower.

Selene rode alongside Endrance, though her posture and expression indicated she didn’t want to be there. The disparity between the two of them had grown larger with each passing month; the final wedge driven between them when Endrance caught her with some of the embassy staff. Nothing had happened yet, but it was enough to show her intentions, and he was conflicted. He knew that her behavior was partially instinct driven, but she claimed she loved him. What the hells was she doing? He had done as he’d promised and never gave her another order; and yet she’d gotten worse and worse. It was almost like she wanted to drive them apart or antagonize him.

Giselle rode along on the other side of Endrance, her pony quite energetic to rush ahead. Even though Endrance had grown, Giselle showed the greatest change over the years. She was nearly five feet tall already, and had been growing faster than Endrance had been able to put her in clothes. Since his Blood Tiger hide coat no longer fit him well, Giselle had taken to wearing it. At the moment, it was a little oversized, but she liked it a lot.

The southern gates of Ironsoul stood open, and to his surprise, no one seemed to be waiting for him. There were a pair of guards standing watch, but they only nodded to him as he approached. They gave Giselle an apprehensive look, but let them pass unmolested.

“That’s odd.” Endrance muttered.

“Hey, weren’t they expecting us?” Bridget asked.

“Yes, we were.” A voice called from inside the city. Endrance saw the High Magus Weldom standing in the center of the road, his arms crossed and a familiar scowl on his face. “But, I assured them that you were not going to make much difference in attaining our peace with the elves. Talos dispatched me to see if you had completed your tasks.”

Endrance smiled. “Oh Weldom, I’ve missed talking with you.” He said in Hdi. “It’s like talking to a Sha’hdi with a five foot stick stuck up his rear.”

Weldom’s scowl only deepened. “What?” he growled.

Endrance switched languages. “I apologize.” He said. “I was just saying that it was a pleasure speaking to you again.”

Weldom shook off his pleasantries. “So, tell me.” He said. “Got proof of your peace with the elves?”

Endrance nodded. “Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.” Weldom said. “Show me the proof.”

“Certainly.” Endrance replied. “Do you want me to do that here, or would you rather do it someplace more… secure?”

“Here.” The High Magus growled. “Now.”

Endrance shrugged, unslinging one of the three scroll cases. He held it out to Weldom. “I willingly pass this on to you.” He said in Hdi, and the script on the scroll case flickered. Weldom took the scroll case and popped it open. The scrolled parchment within was nearly five feet long and written on one side in Hdi, and the other in Common. At the bottom was a handful of signatures in gold ink, one of which was Endrance, one from Ambassador Rasmiel, and one for each of their embassy staff. The bottom most line was signed by both kings of the dual monarchy, and a space for High King Mastadon to sign.

“As you can see from the date, I had this one completed two years ago. I also have since then had two more provisional documents drawn up and signed by the appropriate parties.” Endrance passed the next two scroll cases to Weldom, who had to quickly put away the first scroll lest he lose it. “One of them is an appeal to the ambassadorial assignment, requesting that a more long-term position be deployed from among our mages; and in return, they will reside in an embassy here in Ironsoul, so that diplomatic communication can be handled more swiftly.”

“And the other one?” Weldom asked.

Endrance shrugged. “Trade propositions.”

“You weren’t asked to work out trade agreements.” Weldom snapped.

“I said trade propositions.” Endrance snapped back. “They’re not agreements, unless you agree to them.”

Weldom looked over the scrolls in silence, the forming crowds of people giving them wide berth. “These… all seem to be in order.” He said. “I see you managed to return from yet another impossible situation.”

Endrance shook his head. “It was only impossible to you because you’re an asshole.” He replied cheerfully. “Don’t worry, everything’s legitimate and backed.”

Weldom looked ready to fling a spell at him, Endrance remained smiling. “Though you should probably get those to the High King soon. The enchantments on the cases are now saddled on you, and if you fail to deliver them by the time the suns set, then I’ve been told some horrible things will happen.”

“What?” Weldom demanded, looking up at the sky. One of the two suns had already touched the horizon.

Endrance shrugged. “Sorry. But you demanded to have them.”

Weldom glared at him one more time before making a quick gesture, and upon speaking a word, disappeared.

Endrance looked back at the Draugnoa. “So, how about we find Joven, huh?” he asked.

It only took them an hour to walk to Gwen’s house. Joven answered the door, dressed in simple clothes that looked like they barely fit his muscular frame.

“Endrance!” he shouted, scooping the mage up into a bear hug. “You’ve gotten taller!”

“Mrph…” Endrance mumbled as his face was smashed into the big man’s chest.

“He says thanks.” Tanya added.

Joven released him, and sized him up. “You look… well, like a barbarian, finally.” Joven admitted. “Now I won’t need to do as much work protecting your ass when we get back to Balator.”

Endrance smiled. “Thanks.” He said. “Why don’t you introduce us to Gwen and the kids.” He suggested.

Tanya, Selene and Bridget walked past Endrance into the house, but something made the wizard hesitate. He knew that Weldom would deliver the scrolls to the dragon, and the dragon would inevitably demand to see him. He let the house door close as happy voices rose from within. He turned and sat on the steps, looking out over the street and sighing.

Moments passed, when one of the civilians wandering by veered towards him and stopped nearby.

“You seem a little bit perplexed, m’boy.” A stooped old man on a crooked cane exclaimed. Endrance blinked at him. The man looked oddly familiar, but he was unable to place him.

“Do I know you?” Endrance asked.

The old man looked at him, his face a gnarl of ratty white hair and too small pupils. “Oh…” he crooned. “You knew me once. Now, I am not so sure.” The man tapped Endrance’s right forearm with his cane. “I see you found the other half of the set.”

Recognition dawned on him. “Kaelob?” he asked.

“Shhhhh!” the crooked old man hushed him. “Not so loud.”

“You were dead!” Endrance whispered harshly. “I saw what happened to Wayrest.”

Kaelob sighed. “I can’t talk to you here.” He said. “Follow me.”

Endrance stood and walked after the old man, who hobbled and wove through the street until they came to a far alley. Once behind some boxes, the old man tapped a stone on the ground with his cane and whispered a few words of power. The stone shifted aside and revealed a hole. The old man winked at Endrance and jumped in. Endrance grasped his Grandstaff and hopped in after him.

They landed in a tunnel underground and the stone above closed. Endrance reflexively reached for his goblin’s power, making the dark as clear as day. The old man rose from the crouch he’d landed in, and straightened out his back, eliciting a chorus of pops and crackles.

“Ooooh! I hate transformation magic.” Kaelob groaned, peeling off the fake beard and mustache, and shucking the old man clothes. Underneath was somehow a full High Magus’ robe, unwrinkled and too large to have been concealed by the scraps the old man had been wearing.

“Kaelob.” Endrance demanded. “You were dead.”