Wizard Trials: Chapter 145 (Patreon)

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          A lone rider broke away and galloped into the no-man’s-land between the castle walls and the army gathered outside it. The rider was a young man with bright red hair. He was carrying a torch of white flames high over his head.

          “This is your last chance, Karoth!” the young man shouted towards the castle walls. “Surrender now or we will be forced to destroy you!”

          A figure stood on the battlements, draped in a cloak that hid his features. He spoke, and when he did, his voice echoed loud and clear for all to hear. “Surrender?” the cloaked figure asked. “Why would I surrender when you finally gathered all the rebels into one place for me? You have everything backwards, dear boy, it is I who will be giving you your last chance to surrender.”

          “Your evil deeds end today, Karoth! We will no—”

          The cloaked figure raised his hands up high. Black flames rushed out of him in a tidal wave and swept over the no-man’s-land, engulfing the young man and his steed, then continued unabated and washed over the army behind him. There was screaming for a moment, then silence. When the black flames finally receded, the army was only ashes. The young man with red hair was the only one untouched. The white flames of his torch surged brighter than before.

          The young man looked back towards the army and saw the piles of ash that remained of his comrades. “What did—what did you do!” he screamed. White flames danced over his skin, burst out of him. He was enveloped in a tornado of bright flames. “I’ll kill you!”

          “What is this?” Draevin asked. “I don’t understand. Why are you showing me this?”

          “Dark Lord Karoth of the Putrid Fire,” Tenna said nonchalantly, as though the answer was self-explanatory. “Just one more dark lord among thousands. He’s been ruling over his own little corner of the cosmos for a few centuries now. His days are about to come to an end though. The prophesized hero has risen up to destroy him with the power of the Flame of Purification.”

          “Okaaaay…” Draevin said slowly. “And why does that matter to me?”

          Tenna shook her head. “The specifics aren’t important, but it’s what will happen after he falls that should matter to you quite a bit. Dark Lord Karoth has a divine seed. The Purifying Flame is actually one of us: a Tuan’diath. That hero? The redheaded kid? He was told to burn Karoth with his Purifying Flame. If he does that, you’re done. We’ll get that seed and use it to perform the Rite of Severing. I’m just one voice, Drae, and not a very loud one. With the way things are going I won’t be able to stop them from destroying Eldira.”

          “How much time do we have?” Draevin asked.

          Tenna scrunched up her face in thought. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Not long. Karoth is getting his ass kicked.”

          “What?” Draevin objected. “He just wiped out that whole army!”

          “But his magic can’t touch the hero. We aren’t taking any chances. It’s not a fair fight. All Karoth can do is run away and stall. His end is inevitable.”

          “Well we have a plan,” Draevin told her. “We’re going to try to jumpstart a Conflux and use it to wipe out the Blackroot infection.”

          “You can’t just jumpstart a Conflux like that,” Tenna started to say. “You would have to—”

          “Move the moon into the perfect position?” Draevin asked hopefully. He wasn’t clear on the specifics of how that would actually be accomplished, but that was the gist of what Peter’s plan seemed to be.

          Tenna looked thoughtful for a moment. She tapped her chin. “No,” she said, “it’s not that simple. There are other celestial bodies that… wait. When are you going to try this?”

          “When do you think?” Draevin asked. “Peter claims to be able to calculate the exact moment the Conflux should be due to arrive. He thinks if the moon is moved so it causes an eclipse like it used to, that would do it.”

          “Hmm,” Tenna hummed. “Okay, that might work, but the amount of power needed to move something that big… it won’t be easy. As for the Conflux itself, it was only ever designed to prevent the Blackroot from establishing itself. There is a chance that an established infection would be strong enough to feed on the Conflux rather than be burnt out by it. I hope I don’t have to tell you what a disaster that would be.”

          “That wouldn’t be a problem unless it reached the arena, right?” Draevin asked.

          “Right,” Tenna confirmed.

          “Okay, then assume we stop the Blackroot from spreading to the arena,” Draevin said. “Could it work? Is the Conflux strong enough to eradicate the Blackroot?”

          “Not directly, no,” Tenna admitted. She pursed her lips for a moment. “But, it’s not impossible, if it were guided by the right person. If ever there was going to be a chance to find out, it would be now. The limits put on it by the arena to prevent the Conflux from being abused are gone now, and it’s been building power the last three cycles. It… I don’t know, Drae. A lot of things would have to go just right, but it might be possible.”

          “All we need is a chance,” Draevin said. “The Conflux is supposed to be due in two more days. Do we have that much time? Can you tell your friends what we’re planning so they don’t cut off our world in the meantime?

          “Uh, no. No way,” Tenna said “I’m not exactly known for being a neutral voice right now. I’ve already gotten myself in trouble for helping you more than I should in the past. I don’t think the others would believe me.”

          “What about stalling?” Draevin asked hopefully.

          “Drae… you’re not seriously asking me to help an enslaving tyrant escape justice, are you?”

          “Is that even an option?” Draevin asked. “You said that dark lord guy was doomed anyway, what difference would two more days make?”

          Tenna pressed her palm against her forehead and sighed. “Whatever,” she said. “It’s not like I would get in that much more trouble anyways. Just for you, I’ll give this Dark Lord Karoth some advice on where to hide. I can’t guarantee he’ll listen to advice he finds written on his window in frost, but I’ll try. If you don’t hear from me again, it means I got caught.”

          “Great!” Draevin flashed Tenna his most winning smile. “Trying is all I ask. We’ll be trying too.”

          “Just promise me you’ll move to another world before the rite happens,” Tenna pressed.

          Draevin raised his right hand, palm out, like he was swearing a vow. “I swear I’ll flee like a coward if Eldira is about to be destroyed and I’ve done everything possible to save it.”

          “Good,” Tenna said. She stuck out her hand and made Draevin shake on it, which he did. “Now, I have a message for you from your nephew. Alex and his remaining Council just successfully took back Arena City from the soldiers that stayed at their post after Dwyra’s death.”

          Draevin’s eyes went wide. “Good news for once!” he said excitedly. “When was the last time we got any of that? Was Taelshin with them? Oh man, Grrbraa’s going to flip when I tell him!”

          Tenna smiled. “Yes, I believe Taelshin’s help was instrumental.”

          “You aren’t going to follow that up with bad news now, are you? Were there any casualties I should know about?”

          Tenna shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just… there has been reports of demon and vampire activity in the surrounding countryside. Graevin said they’ve already started reading through all the intel reports Dwyra’s network collected and it looks like they were concerned about a possible attack being organized by Chaska’nal coming in from the East. Alex doesn’t think they’ll be able to hide the signs of battle. When Chaska’nal finds out their defenses are weakened they don’t think she’ll be able to resist taking the city for herself. They want you guys to come home as soon as possible.”

          “That was already our plan,” Draevin said. “Thanks for the heads up about the demon horde though. I’ll tell Istven to move things along. Somewhere between ten and twenty thousand of the troops Dwyra sent against Truntstown have already sworn allegiance to him. I’m sure some of them could be spared for Arena City.” He held up a finger. “Oh. And I’ll mention the root thing.”

          “Which was?” Tenna prompted.

          “Not to let them reach the arena before the Conflux. Sounds like that would ruin our whole plan.”

          “It would,” Tenna confirmed. “Well good, it sounds like you were actually paying attention. Good luck.” She leaned forward and gave Draevin a quick peck on the forehead. He was too surprised to react. “Hope I see you again,” Tenna said, as her image faded. The last thing Draevin remembered as his dream dissolved was the dazzling sparkle of her smile, and how different she looked and acted now from when she’d been alive. She’d come so far he hardly recognized her.

          Draevin woke up in a dark room. He was being practically smothered by a pile of pillows. It was fantastic. He would have liked to lay there for a while longer, but he had some important information to pass on. He got up and fumbled around in the dark until he found the door. Light flooded the room as he opened it.

          The bedroom Draevin had been assigned was within the spire they had defended so viciously. The sheet of metal over the window left over from the battle was just a bonus as far as Draevin was concerned; no pesky sunlight to disturb his sleep. All the windows had been sealed during the battle. There were synthetic lights turned on in the main chamber. They pushed mana from the PME through wires to create pure white light without any enchantments required, according to Peter.

          For once there was an abundance of room. Draevin and Peter had this entire floor to themselves. He walked over to the next room over and knocked on the door. There was no answer. “Hey, Peter, are you up yet?” Draevin called out.

          The door creaked open to reveal a room cluttered with so many broken machine parts there was barely any room for a bed. Peter wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Draevin had about one guess where he might be. Most people hadn’t fought to get rooms on the top floor of the spire with the lift no longer functional, but Peter had wanted to be near the roof. Draevin used a short burst of steam to fly up the empty shaft one floor up. He found Peter right where he’d expected him to be. He had the PME running, with a myriad of glowing wires branching out of it.

          “Thought you might be here,” Draevin said as he settled softly on the roof.

          Peter looked up from a crate of glass jars. “Oh, hey Drae. Did you need something?” Peter was wearing a special pair of gloves and feeding a glowing white wire from one jar to the next, turning each jar of water into a mana potion in the blink of an eye.

          “Report, from Tenna,” Draevin said. “She said our time is running out. There’s some Dark Lord with a divine seed that’s going to be defeated any day now. I convinced her to stall, but as soon as the Tuan’diath have his power they’re going to use it to do the Rite of Severing I told you about. Tenna also gave me a report from Graevin. Alex took Arena City back from Dwyra’s forces and put the Council back in charge. They’re safe for now, but in looking over reports Dwyra’s scouts were collecting they think a demonic army could be planning an attack any day. They want us to come home.”

          “Sounds like you should be telling Istven this,” Peter said without looking up. He finished filling the last row of mana potions, then put the wire down and started corking the bottles one at a time.

          “Of course,” Draevin agreed. “I’ll tell Istven too, if you know where he is. I thought you might want to know that I heard it from Tenna herself that this plan of yours can actually work. She even said the Conflux will be a lot stronger than we’re used to.”

          “Stronger, eh?” Peter scratched his chin, looking thoughtful. “That’s… good. Very good.”

          “It’s not going to be easy though,” Draevin warned. “She said that if the Blackroot reaches the arena before the Conflux, there’s a chance it could feed on it if it’s strong enough. She didn’t say exactly what it would do, but I think we can use our imagination on this one.”

          “Did you tell her it ate Sho’tan?” Peter asked.

          Draevin frowned. “It didn’t come up.”

          Peter tsked. “Well I think it’s safe to say the Blackroot will be more than strong enough to feed on the Conflux.”

          “So we just have to stop it from reaching the arena,” Draevin concluded. He didn’t exactly know how they were planning to do that, but it was the only plan that made sense. “If anyone can stop it, it’s Istven.”

          “About that,” Peter said. He put the handful of corks he was holding aside and faced Draevin directly, giving him his full attention. “I wanted to talk about who should wield the Conflux.”

          Draevin furrowed his brow. “What’s there to talk about? It has to be Istven, right? He’s the only one strong enough. He’s a god now! We’re talking about a Conflux three or four times stronger than normal, and without the restrictions the arena normally puts on it. It’s going to be way too strong for anyone else to handle.”

          “Assume I found a way to make it safe for someone else,” Peter said, waving away Draevin’s concerns. “Do we really want Istven to wield the power of an enhanced Conflux? If he gets that kind of power, there will be no stopping him. He’ll be in charge of the entire world.”

          “Are you sure you should be talking about Istven that way?” Draevin asked. “He might be able to hear us.”

          “Relax, he’s in the shadow realm hunting monsters to make himself more powerful. We’re fine.”

          “Fine,” Draevin said. “Why does it matter? Why do you care if Istven becomes unstoppable? Despite his father’s reputation, Istven’s not a tyrant. Would you rather the Blackroot ravage our world instead? Or Chaska’nal and her demons? I don’t care what kind of crazy method you might have come up with to wield the Conflux. This isn’t one of your experiments. The whole world is hanging in the balance here. If we mess this up, everything dies. It’s not worth the risk. Just let Istven do it.”

          “Remember what you said about Istven after Dwyra absorbed him?” Peter asked. “He just remade her body back into his own. Imagine that kind of power on a grand scale. Istven will be able to remake the world. Everything. Are we really sure we want Istven to have that kind of power?”

          “Yes!” Draevin shouted. “Of course we do! Look at what he’s done with what he already has. He’s healed people; protected us from the Everstorm when I couldn’t. Istven might be a bit of an ass, but he isa good person deep down. I’m sure of it.”

          “This is our chance to fix everything though,” Peter said. “Restore the lives of everyone we lost in the last few years.”

          “What makes you think Istven wouldn’t do that?”

          “How would we make him?” Peter demanded. “Once he has that kind of power, there will be no accountability! I’m just afraid that a year from now we’ll all be doing our mandatory worship at the Temple of Istven, kicking ourselves for helping him rise to power. And that’s only if he even allows us to have independent thoughts in the first place.”

          “You’re being ridiculous,” Draevin said. “Istven isn’t like that. Why would he heal me if he was just planning to—”

          “He’s not all-powerful yet,” Peter interrupted. “He still needs us on some level. I’m just thinking ahead, of what he might do once he really doesn’t need anyone else anymore.”

          “Well I think your attitude says a lot more about you than Istven. Have you tried asking him what he plans to do once he gains ultimate power?”

          “I’m not stupid,” Peter said. “Just… forget it. I’m having second thoughts is all. You’re right. I’m probably worrying about nothing. We still have a long ways to go. Think you could bring up the next crate of jars? We can’t have too many mana potions when we’re going to try moving a moon.”

          Draevin wandered back to the edge of the shaft. Right before he stepped out, Peter stopped him. “Wait, one more thing,” Peter said.

          Draevin turned around. “What?”

          “There’s an island in the sky. Just showed up a few hours ago.”

          “A what?”

          “Is-land,” Peter said slowly as though talking to a simpleton. “In. The. Sky.” He waved a hand vaguely to the South. “You can fly, can’t you? Go check it out. But bring up those jars first.”

          Draevin could only shake his head. Only Peter could be more concerned with filling up mana potions than a floating island in the sky. He looked over to the South and could just make out a little black spec in the distance, floating among the clouds.

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