A Wizard's Tears Page 17

  Suralubus staggered to his feet shakily. He thanked the birdman with a curt nod, not sure if it had seen him or not. He must focus and not get distracted. His life, and the lives of his brethren, depended on it. Somehow, he must reach Vergail, and get her away from the sorcerer.

  Lorkayn had killed many of the birdmen, but they fought valiantly, causing him more injuries than he would have liked. He felt the sting from multiple wounds, and could feel his power weakening slightly. This must not be! The priestess…he must join with the priestess!

  Sensing a change in the tide of battle, the birdmen forced the sorcerer back, away from the priestess, who had not risen since the attack from the Ice Lord in her mind. Try as he might to reach her, the birdmen attacked, pecking and slashing him with their large, feathered bodies. They were built for combat, their skin was tough and leathery, hard to penetrate and injure. They had a strong constitution, and fought like it was their last breath.

  Lorkayn abandoned his attempt to reach the fallen priestess. She would come to him, if he started the summoning. Yet, did he have enough power inside him to attempt this alone? He had no choice. The birdmen were slowly beating him, and, for Lorkayn, he had never been beaten. It was not going to happen here, either. He would not let it!

  Drawing his power inward instead of outward, Lorkayn gathered the dark forces that were his to command, increasing his power. He would only have one shot at this, and he would make this work. The birdmen, seemingly victorious, enveloped him in a flurry of feathers and excitement, as the defensive barriers he had put up to stop them suddenly dissipated.

  He could feel them scratching and punching his body. He could feel the fresh trickle of new wounds, as blood seeped out of him. He had but seconds left to perform this spell. He waited, waited until the last possible moment, harnessing all of his power inside him, making it build, making it race through his veins in orgasmic glory. Then, at his peak, he released it, released it all, making it flood from his body like water crashing down a waterfall.

  A wave of bright energy ignited from Lorkayn's body and shot its way through the birdmen attacking him, obliterating them all to skull and bones, and then ash. The energy hit the prone priestess, and her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opened in a silent scream. The energy filled her lungs, her mind, her soul. It was the full power of Lorkayn unleashed, and it sent waves of agony and ecstasy through her body.

  Suralubus cried out, seeing Vergail screaming inside the energy. He tried to reach her, but lizard men held him back, pinning him. He fought like a caged animal, but could not reach her. He knew he would never reach her. Tears came to his eyes. "Vergail…" he wailed, before a lizard man smashed him across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor, unconscious.

  Momentarily, the group of combatants paused in their battle, looking at the spectacle unfolding before their eyes.

  Vo'Loth bowed his head low, daring not to look at the bright energy, lest it burn its way into his eyes and mind. This was the full power of the sorcerer escaping, and it was a deadly, destructive force. He prayed for Untaba to sustain the priestess for as long as he could, but he knew that, here, even the god would have trouble.

  It is time for our union. Combined, we will drink in the raw power, and transform it, transcending this world and breaching over to other worlds, other dimensions. We will look into the faces of gods and smile in understanding. We will mix together our bodies, our molecules, the very fabric of our realities, until we become one and the same. Our souls will connect, and join. We will have power infinite.

  Vergail heard the voice, in her mind, and wondered if she was dreaming. Her eyes saw an assortment of colours, a myriad of hues and tinges. The whole spectrum lay out before her, and she was flying over it, her naked form thrilling to the touch of a million tickles.

  There was sweet laughter, and she could see patterns, shapes, forming in the air around her, like wisps of cloud. Smiling mouths and rows of teeth, grinning, laughing. Her body raced through a mouth, which opened, taking her in like she was sweet candy to its hungry stomach. She was gobbled up, and then she was falling. Falling, into the sky…into the colours…into the pleasure.

  She felt rapture; a union so strong and binding that she could not escape, or want to escape. She dreamed she could hold onto this feeling forever. Her entire body arched. Her toes and fingers clenched as she tried to contain the waves of euphoria from fleeing her body.

  She could feel him inside her, not physically, but spiritually. She could sense his soul touching her own, reaching down and cupping it in his hands, and drinking from it, like sweet red wine. She let her soul mix, and savoured the union. It was a moment so profound, so intense, as if her whole body had peeled away, leaving nothing but the spirit, and the spirit danced, weaving to join the other.

  Intoxicated, giddy, she soared, upward, the colours blending into one, bright whiteness now, but shimmering, so beautiful, so wonderful. His spirit joined hers, entwining, kissing hers in a delicate dance of joy and freedom.

  A new energy surged forth, the two spirits feeding off of each other, increasing the intensity and raw power. Yes, she murmured…let the energy flow! Let the pleasure reach new heights, new waves. Let their souls mix forever.

  In that moment, in that place of special union where no human had experienced before, came a realisation, a feeling. It was pure, innocent love, and it poured from both spirits, bonding them eternally and faithfully. This fuelled the energy seeping from them, from this place, centralising it, focusing it, into a core, a fusion of mutual energies.

  We are united, came the voice, once again, to her waking mind. We have drunk the raw power, and transformed it. We have travelled to a new plane of existence. We have tasted the power infinite, and it will never leave us.

  Vergail woke, and stared ahead. She was standing, looking at Lorkayn, who smiled knowingly at her. Behind the sorcerer, she could make out a shimmering, glowing circle of energy, and she knew immediately what it was: a portal, a gateway to somewhere not of this world.

  There were people behind them, she could hear rustling, unrest, and strange voices. Yet she paid them no heed. She merely looked at the sorcerer, her eyes boring into his, understanding him, and completely loving him.

  She had touched his soul. She had somehow, through his magick, mingled with his very spirit, his very being, and the result hit her mind, reeling it. She loved this man, as fiercely as she had ever loved. It was more than love; it was a deep, spiritual bond. She knew, at this point in time, that he felt exactly the same for her. How could he not? They had shared one another physically, and now spiritually. There was nothing else.

  Lorkayn looked at the priestess, and felt his love for her burn into his mind. For one, fleeting moment, before his evil nature once again took hold, he looked at another as an equal, as a lover, as a reason for living. He, too, had felt such profoundness at their union. It had done far more than merely create this portal. They had travelled, as a spirit, and they had left this world a long time ago.

  It was an odd thought, an odd feeling, and Lorkayn did not take to it. His anger returning, he banished the feelings from his mind, shedding it as though it had never been there. Once again, his cold, calculating thoughts returned. He had succeeded! He had stolen Vergail's power, forever banishing the god in her, and claiming her power as his own. He had used this power, combining it with his own, and had summoned the portal.

  He smiled. It had worked! He had shed all of his power, surged it outward to join with the priestess, and had used her magick to increase his own. Together, joined, they had travelled far enough to leave this world. They had simply come back, bringing a piece of the other side back with them: the portal. He had never before attempted such a feat, and, for it to have succeeded so greatly filled him with elation.

  He was weak. He had used all of his power to bring the portal. He survived purely on the energies of the priestess, until his power could feed again, and grow. If she was to die, he, too, would die, and the p
ortal would perish. He must act, quickly, before the rabble before them could thwart him.

  He gestured for the priestess to join him. He held out his hand, and Vergail, willingly, her love still shining within her like a beacon, took it. Smiling at her, he turned and led them towards the portal.

  17. Lizard and Ice

  "Keldoran, you must come!" The voice hissed in Keldoran's mind, strong and loud, as if the person speaking was in the chamber with him. He knew it immediately, the blue crystal staff pulsating as each word was spoken: Vo'Loth, the Ice Lord, was talking to him. Images came to his mind and senses, as the staff and the power within him blossomed from the Ice Lord's contact. For a moment, he looked through the Ice Lord's eyes, and the feeling was odd and certainly disquieting.

  He could see the shimmering portal, and Lorkayn holding the hand of the priestess, a beautiful, sultry woman to his eyes. He was stunned at the sight of the birdmen, and the hordes of lizard men, and the fighting that was intense. He saw the curves and structures of the temple Lorkayn had created, itself a power conduit, feeding the shimmering portal at its centre.

  The Ice Lord's thoughts came into his head. Vo'Loth wanted him to enter this chamber, and destroy this portal. Already he could see the energy surrounding it, the heat visibly smoking off the thing. The Ice Lord could detect the pain in the land around this portal. For every moment the thing existed in their world, it would feed off the land, sucking in all the energy and power until the world was a dry husk. It must be stopped. Keldoran wondered briefly why he had not felt the call of the land, especially if this thing was so powerful, but he ignored this thought. Perhaps it was affecting the land a different way to the way he could detect. He was truly a land mage, but he still had little understanding of his power.

  The images faded, and Keldoran looked at Corg and Yvanna, who were watching him with an odd mix of sadness and curiosity in their faces. "I must go," he informed them. "I have been summoned. There is a battle going on, in the guild. There are more lizard men, and there is an Ice Lord helping the mages. He has brought many birdmen with him."

  Corg's eyes widened. "An Ice Lord? Here? They have not been seen in this realm for an age…and he comes here now, with a full host of birdmen? These are truly strange times indeed…"

  "The sorcerer has created a portal," continued Keldoran. "The Ice Lord wants me to destroy it. I will understand if neither of you wants to join me. In fact, I urge you both not to come. This is dangerous."

  "What else can we do but follow you?" said Corg. "We already agreed we'd stay together. I must see things through to the end."

  Yvanna nodded in agreement. "I have to see what happens," she said. "There is nowhere else for me to go. I feel safer when I'm with you and Corg."

  Keldoran's eyes brimmed with tears. He was still a young man, and he could sense more death to come. So much pain. Relb's face came to his mind, and Keldoran's heart grew heavy. He had too much power, too much responsibility for someone so young! He did not want this power. For all his romantic notions of becoming a mage, the reality was almost too much to bear.

  Yvanna ran forward and hugged him, then. He could feel her trembling beside him; hear her ragged, nervous breathing. She was terrified, and yet she clung to him, trying to comfort him, trying to stop him from despairing again. It was a noble, compassionate thing to do, and his heart went out to her.

  Without any more words, he led them up the stone steps, away from the chamber that had changed their lives forever. He would answer the call from Vo'Loth. He hoped that he would have enough power to do what the Ice Lord bade him. He hoped, however, more than this, that finally, this nightmare would come to an end, and they could all share peace.

  He would do this for Relb. Lorkayn, hand in hand with the priestess, walked towards the portal, but the Ice Lord stopped them short, appearing in front of them, using his powers to teleport himself before the seething mass of energy.

  Lorkayn's eyes narrowed in thought. So, this blue skinned being held great power. To be able to teleport, to transmute one's molecules into a transportable form and then to realign them, was a long and powerful spell on his world. Facing this one could prove problematic, especially as his powers were dwindled.

  The Ice Lord could not allow them to enter the portal. The resultant wave of energy as they joined with another plane of existence would shatter the entire city, and lay waste to the land of Elrohen for miles around. Vo'Loth's eyes, too, narrowed slightly, his black opaque pools of midnight focussing on the sorcerer before him. He did not know if he could stop this being, but he knew he must try.

  He gathered his power to him, drawing on the land for sustenance. He must be at full peak, to take on this sorcerer. His magick came from the land, and he could feel the pain of it touching his feet. There was a huge amount of magickal disturbance, just before the portal, and Vo'Loth could feel it reverberating and growing.

  Vergail looked at Lorkayn, a frown playing on her features. Why had they stopped? Her mind, no longer her own, could not understand the danger ahead of her. The portal, a portion of her own power, intoxicated with the passion and energies from Lorkayn, called to her. She had to enter it, to savour the sensual feel of it! Why had they stopped?

  Anger getting the better of him, so close to his goal but thwarted by a blue skinned humanoid, Lorkayn lunged forward, his hands burning fires of dark energies. He grabbed hold of the Ice Lord, by the neck, and sent his burning, sizzling sorcery out in waves.

  The attack, so rushed, was clumsy at best. With speed and dexterity, Vo'Loth grabbed Lorkayn's hands around his neck, and the connection sent a flood of the land's pain jolting through the sorcerer's body.

  Vergail looked on in anger and fear as her beloved toppled in pain to the ground. She had never seen Lorkayn lose in a battle, and so quickly. Her rage blossomed within her as she turned to look at the Ice Lord. A buzzing in her mind warned her that she knew who this being was, and to show respect, but she cast the thought away. She would die to protect her love. She would do all she could to stop this creature.

  Lorkayn, however, was not beaten yet. Still conscious, the sorcerer regarded his wounds as a lesson learned. He should not have blindly attacked the blue skinned one in anger. He must be methodical, cunning. The sight of the portal had clouded his judgment and delighted his senses. He still felt the unrivalled ecstasy from the union with Vergail’s soul, and it lingered beautifully in every fibre of his being.

  Vo’Loth, like a pouncing cat, struck home his advantage. He did not wait for Lorkayn or Vergail to strike again. In a flurry of movement, the Ice Lord struck Lorkayn in the head with his foot, again the touch sending a wave of the land’s pain into the sorcerer.

  Lorkayn grabbed hold of the Ice Lord’s leg, enduring the agony. His face contorted as he felt the land beating at him, like a force of a thousand boulders landing on him. Long ago, he had learned to disconnect pain, to focus his mind in his magick. He did this now, drawing his thoughts inward, into the protective shell that knew no pain.

  Vergail, with a yell, lashed out, attempting to strike Vo’Loth in the face with flames conjured in her hand, a remnant of the sorcerer’s union with her. The Ice Lord deflected the strike, sending a wave of cold air at her hand, freezing the fireball and sending it crashing to the floor in bits.

  Still the sorcerer clung to his leg. His face calmed, to Vo’Loth’s disbelief. He was sending the full brunt of the land’s pain, a force that would have crushed any mind into darkness. Yet Lorkayn hung on fiercely; moreover, his body stopped convulsing in pain. For the first time, the Ice Lord knew fear.

  Keldoran led the others through the guild towards the battle. He had been shown the way by the Ice Lord, but then, he had no real need for his knowledge: the sound of the battle carried all the way to them. Harsh screams of pain, the boom of magick, all poured out from the walls of the guild, and grew with intensity as they got closer.

  The sight that welcomed them when they arrived at the chamber shocked and appalled th
em. Lying on the floor were many bodies, and the ground was awash with blood. The smell of burning flesh assaulted their senses, and Keldoran had to struggle not to retch. The sounds of pain, of agony, alerted them to movement on the ground, and they could see mages, birdmen and lizard men alike writhing from mortal wounds. What should have been an awe-inspiring moment, to witness the ancient race of birdmen from Isoch for the first time, turned to graphic horror.

  Yvanna whimpered, and Corg brought her to him, cuddling her in an attempt to reassure. His gaze followed Keldoran's, to the great shimmering portal of power in the dark temple, and the three figures before it.

  “Strike the sorcerer!” came the voice of the Ice Lord in Keldoran’s mind as loudly as if Vo’Loth had stood next to him and spoke. “Destroy the portal. It must not endure – the land feels its presence and slowly decays.”

  Keldoran reached out with his power, the crystal staff in his hand flaring a bright blue. He could sense the land’s anguish, and could almost see the ground rotting away around the portal, as if it was a great fire burning bits of old wood. The Ice Lord spoke truly. Unchecked, the infection would spread through Elrohen for miles around, destroying the very essence of life that lived in the world’s soil and stone.

  With a quick glance to see if Yvanna and Corg were ok, Keldoran raised the crystal staff aloft, bathing the room in a cyan glow. His mind and his power fixated upon Lorkayn. With the sorcerer distracted on Vo’Loth, this was the ideal time to strike. Slowly, gently, Keldoran urged the power within the staff, within him, to escape and travel to the sorcerer, to knock him down in a fiery concoction of ice magick.

  It was Vergail that intercepted Keldoran’s attack. Seeming, instinctively, to know of danger, the priestess turned and covered Lorkayn’s form from sight. The brunt of Keldoran’s magick struck the priestess in a circular beam of scorching blue. He watched as Vergail screamed, but she stood her ground, hiding Lorkayn, stopping the blows from hitting him.