Under the Shadow of Darkness: Book 1 of the Apprentice Series (17 page)

The old mage sounded suddenly desperate. “Fleck, please. Leave off from this madness. You were my apprentice and I am sorry that you died but if you challenge me I will have to destroy you.”

“Destroy me? You cannot harm me. You cannot kill me. I’m already dead, remember?” The boy pointed his staff at the old man and squeezed. A large ball of light erupted from the end of it and arced out toward the old man who quickly lifted up his own staff sideways. The round orb of light struck the stick of mage-wood, knocking the mage back a few steps, him gasping loudly under the force, then the light dissipated into his staff.

The boy laughed loudly, arching his back and tilting his head toward the black sky, “Hahaha. How weak have you become, old man? When I was your apprentice you would have swatted that away with the flick of your wrist.”

Kerlith and Bel were now behind the boy. Bel couldn’t stop staring at the burnt hole in the boy’s body, the empty socket where his arm should have been. He was mesmerized by it and was having trouble focusing on anything else; a fog was in his mind. The soldiers still stood to the mage’s left, swords drawn, but their enemy ignored them as if they were insignificant as buzzing flies.

Nes’egrinon spoke, “Listen, I don’t want to fight you. You know this. For… for I love you. But if you continue then I will unleash a force that even a ghoul-mage cannot withstand.”

A puzzled look stole over Bel’s face. Something was not right here but he couldn’t seem to figure it out; he couldn’t seem to think.

“Fine. Don’t fight back and die or fight back and die. It makes no difference to me,” the boy howled as he sent another blast towards the mage, then another, then another, then another. Each time the archmage held up his staff in defense, absorbing the light, absorbing the power. It knocked him back further each time and after the last blast he found himself down on one knee, his right hand bracing his body on a boulder, trying to hold back the successive onslaught of deadly energy.

“What? Is that all you are going to do? Let me pummel you? You owe me a fight!”

Nes’egrinon slammed his staff into the ground then used it to pull himself up to his feet. He twisted the staff in the ground softly as he stood and breathed hard, huffing air. “You are right, I am old. I cannot stand much more of this. I ask mercy of you. We are on a journey to close this breach. If you would have my life once our mission is complete then I will give it to you gladly. I will join you in the underworld.”

“Hahaha. Close the breach. Impossible. How do you think this breach came to be anyway?”

Tiny roots clawed their way from among the stones and rocks littered on the ground as the old mage continued to gently twist his staff. They wrapped themselves around Fleck’s feet, ankles and legs.

Fleck spoke excitedly, “I did it! I caused the breach to rip open! I poisoned his mind. Called to him for years!” He bellowed, proud of himself, “The others said it couldn’t be done. The other dead mages, fools all, said that the dead could not communicate with the living. But they forgot about dreams! Dreams, dreams, wonderful, terrible dreams! I got into them. All I needed to do was find a mind that was so full of the hope and lust for glory that he would believe almost anything to get it, the mind of a mage, one who could actually do something to set me free. I found him and entered his dreams. It took time, probably at least twenty years, but what was time to me?”

The tendrils were wrapped around the boy’s legs up to the knees now.

“It is I who did this, Father. That’s right! All of you have heard me say it. This man who stands before you, this so-called great mage, he is my father and it is because of him that I am dead and because of him that this breach is open! The very fabric of reality has been torn asunder and you have him to blame! I tell you this, you will join me, Father mine. But it will not be a happy reunion.”

Nes’egrinon screamed, “Now!” as he lifted then swung his staff down at the boy, pushing out all of the energy that he had been absorbing and holding. A giant flash of energy exploded out of his staff toward the one-armed boy. Kerlith and Bel each pointed at the boy from behind, attacking him with magic and the soldiers leapt at him with their swords. 

The boy tried to quickly kneel into a defensive position but his lower legs were held tight and he began to lose his balance, flailing his single arm. He quickly formed a barrier of protection around himself, a thin blue orb of energy, as he tumbled. The soldiers were rebuffed when they struck the orb but Nes’egrinon’s attack pierced it, disintegrating the shield. The boy fell back, landing hard on the ground and Bel poured all he had into one last ball of magic, speaking in the old tongue, “” calling a massive increase in the density of the boy’s limbs. They became so heavy that he could not lift them. Even his head fell to the side and his tongue out of his mouth, lying on the earth, so heavy that he could not lift it to speak. The force of energy drained Bel so deeply that he could barely stand. Bel felt incoherent; he knew he was fading but he couldn’t stop; he had to see this through.

The archmage stood over his son and said, “My son, I am sorry. I am truly sorry. I did not mean for things to happen as they have but dead or not you are still my son and you need a spanking.”

Bel and Kerlith looked at the old man, their eyes changed, their opinion and knowledge of the old man now broken. The old man was not who they thought he was. He had a son, secretly. All wizards, upon graduating from Lasaat took the oath to not marry or have children. Now here stood a wizard who not only had a son, but also somehow got him into Lasaat without the other masters knowing who the boy’s father was, then—and this was incredible—got his own son assigned to him as apprentice. The gears in their minds spun feverishly.
To do all of that and then for the boy to die? That must have ripped the old man apart. No wonder he hadn’t taken an apprentice until now.

Dizziness spun Bel around and around and he realized that the spell drained him further than he thought. He reached out, grabbing Kerlith’s shoulder to steady himself.

The archmage spoke, “My son, now we will go on. If we fail then perhaps I will be joining you this day. If not and we succeed then it will not be long. I am old and have not much life left in me. I will join you, whether it is this day or another. We will speak and you will know my heart. I hope that one day you will forgive me for your death.” The old mage spoke to the others, “Come. We must go. Bel, Kerlith, drain him.”

Bel said, “What?” in a sort of a daze.

“You heard me. Drain his energy. We need it. You can’t kill him. Go ahead. Do it.”

Kerlith looked at Bel and said, “Now this is a new one. Draining energy from the dead?”

They knew all living creatures had life—that was common sense—and magic was merely a manipulation of that life, but to draw life from what was dead? Something just didn’t sound right about it. Kerlith placed his hand on the immobilized boy and pulled in his spirit. He felt energy so he drew on it more, pulling it into himself. Bel stood back and watched, unsure.

Fleck began to laugh, a hideous, gurgling sort of laugh, as his tongue and his mouth were not under his control.

Bel grabbed at Kerlith’s shoulder, nearly ready to fall over. “Are you sure? How does it feel?”

Fleck’s eyes rolled to the outer edge of their sockets and stared up at Bel. He continued to laugh, sucking dust and dirt into his mouth.

“I feel energy. I feel life. But it is… tainted.” Kerlith was initially cautious but then smiled oddly and pulled hard.

The one-armed boy squealed in pain as the color drained from his skin and faded to a deep, dark gray. Kerlith removed his hand from the dead boy whose eyes stared forward vacantly, mouth mumbling, “Bloo. Bloo-da. Nee bloo-da,” unable to properly form the words.

Kerlith said, “It feels weird. It is energy, yes, but I am not sure if that was such a good idea.”

The archmage stood tall. “One last thing, Fleck. If you try this kind of stunt when I am dead, I’ll give you a spanking there too. Okay everyone, there is little time. We must go now while we still can.”

Bel teetered then fell over.

Kerlith said, “Hey, stop fooling around. Oh. Master Archmage, I think your Fifth Year here passed out.”

Alexius and Kephas went to the two men who lay on the ground unmoving. Alexius spoke first, “Wait a moment Master Archmage. I think these two have joined the dead.” Alexius pushed on one of their shoulders with his boot.

One of the freshly dead men began to stir. He coughed a few times then opened his eyes and wiped the dirt from his mouth. He looked up at Alexius then over to Nes’egrinon then sat up. He pulled his arm out of his jacket. “Even in death, my arm is still damaged. It no longer bleeds though. Uhhh, my head really hurts. My chief, oh my chief. Alexius, I have failed you. Please tell my dear Bella that I love her. Please tell her that I fought well. Oh, it is coming. I feel my mind slipping. It is growing hazy. Please, help me stand.”

Alexius lent his arm to his fallen comrade and as he did the other dead man began to stir. Meanwhile, in the distance, the boy with one arm could not stop laughing. The other dead soldier’s eyes snapped open. “What? What happened? My head hurts. Man, oh man.” He reached back and felt the back of his head. “I think I busted my head. Hey Alexius, could you help me up?”

Alexius helped the second man up to a seated position. He squatted down on his knees and looked at him eye level. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty good. My head is pounding. Real hungry too. Man I could use something to drink.” The man’s eyes popped open wide. “Hey, I’m not dead, am I?”

Kephas said, “Do you feel dead?”

“No. I feel pretty alive. Except… the idea of drinking some blood just popped into my head and… Awww man! I
am
dead!”

“I am sorry, friend.” Alexius stood and held out his hand.

“Get that thing away from me! I’m dead! Thanks a lot!” The dead man stood and rubbed the gash on the back of his head. “You know, just a few minutes ago, when that one-armed nut job came around I was really thinking seriously about getting out of here. I was going to run away. Yeah, that’s it. Run away all the way back to the Keep. But nooooo. I had to stay and help. Now I’m dead.”

The other dead man said, “Don’t be upset. Everyone dies. Let us go on together.”

“With you? I don’t even like you. There. I said it. We have been serving on the same guard for almost four years and I never told you. You know why? You fart too much in the guard shack. I mean, what’s with that? You see me there and then you fart. And what’s worse is that you aim that cannon toward me first. Hey this is not target practice, you know.”

“I’m sorry. You should have said something.”

“Said something? Are you kidding me? What should I have said? Excuse me, please don’t fart when my mouth is open? C’mon! No one has to be told that. And they stunk too. What were you eating? Dead carcass sandwich smothered in sewage stained underwear? And hey, did I say my mouth was open? Yuck! No way am I going anywhere with you and that stench cannon you’re carrying around.”

The first soldier turned to leave, saying, “I must go. I must go from here before the desire for blood overtakes me.” The soldier stumbled off into the darkness.

The other said, “Yeah. Get out of here, stinky. Alexius, I am not happy about this. But, well, what can I do? I am going the other way. I don’t want to bump into stinky out there in the dark. You never know what he’s going to smell like now that’s he’s dead. I mean, he smelled dead when he was alive. Can you image what he’s going to smell like now? Oh well, I’m leaving.”

Nes’egrinon slapped Bel on the face, trying to wake him but he was too far drained, he had given too much of his life-force. He was alive, but close to death.

Kephas said, “If I may make a suggestion? I will stay here with the boy and watch him. He seems to be too far-gone to be of any use to you. Am I right? If he regains consciousness and seems able we will follow after you. And while I am here I can keep an eye on your dead son there too.”

The archmage rubbed his scar and said, “Hmmn. I don’t like it but it looks as if I have no choice. Yes, you stay here with him. We will go on and see what we will see. So soon and we are down to three.”

“What? Where am I?” Bel said as he tried to look around in the blackness. He couldn’t see anything. Somewhere nearby he heard some scuffling and a voice mumbling something about blood.
The ghoul-kind! They are close! Keep quiet!

Bel tried to shake the fog from his mind. He felt extremely tired and he had no idea how long he was out. The last he remembered they were just over the peak of a large mountain staring down into a valley and… the breach.
Yeah, the breach.

“I remember now,” he whispered to himself.
We saw the breach, at least what we thought was the breach. It looked like a large tear. Unnatural. That had to be it. Then… dogs! Oh yeah, the dogs attacked then the one-armed boy from my dreams. I think we defeated him.
But Bel wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t remember much about that battle.
He said he was Master’s son! Master Nes’egrinon had a son!
It became more incredible the more Bel dwelled on it.
I wonder if any of the other mage-kind has secret lives and secret children.
This changed everything. The world of magic was revealing itself more and more to be not what Bel thought, not what he was taught in school.

“Hey! You’re awake!” Kephas stood over Bel, holding a small torch.

“Kephas, what happened? Where am I?”

“How much do you remember?”

“We were fighting the boy with one-arm.”

Kephas glanced back. “He’s over there. It was tough, but we overcame him. It cost us much though. Two of my friends are dead. And you, well, you passed out afterward.”

“I did?”

Kephas squatted next to the boy. “Yes, I think you drained yourself too much. At least that’s what I overheard the archmage say as they left.”

“Left! They went on without me?”

“Yes.”