Imperial wizard, p.2
Imperial Wizard, page 2
"Aer," Verdan whispered, visualizing a gust thumping the door on the front of the building so that it shook in its frame. The spell hit with an echoing bang and a loud rattle of wood.
The abrupt noise cut through the air, and Verdan smiled to himself as he saw it had caught the attention of the two Cyth.
The guards looked at each other before turning and heading that way. The two Cyth spread out slightly, leveling their spears as they looked around the front of the building, trying to find the source of the sound.
With both guards gone, Verdan edged out of his hiding place, holding his breath and treading softly as he kept low and made his way to the tunnel. With a final look around, he headed down into the darkness.
"Disir," Verdan conjured the softest magelight he could, affixing it to his staff as he held it before him as both a makeshift lantern and a ward against danger.
The soft gray light drove back the darkness, revealing a fifteen- to twenty-foot long tunnel that led to a wooden door.
As he came closer, Verdan saw that a heavy iron bolt was on his side of the door, sealing it closed. The bolt mechanism was covered in rust and looked poorly-maintained. Any attempt to open it would be dangerous without precautions being taken.
The last thing he wanted was to draw the guards down here with a squealing door bolt. Not when he was voluntarily putting himself in their prison.
"Tawel." Verdan split his attention further, portioning off a part of it, as he'd been trained to back when he'd been in the academy.
It was a difficult mental juggling act to maintain multiple spells, but it was essential for any Wizard who wanted to survive a battle. His latest spell formed a bubble of sound suppression around his staff, dampening any sound in the local area.
Reaching out and pulling the bolt across, Verdan heard a faint squeak, little more than a murmur. The resistance from the handle as he pulled it across let him guess just how loud it would have been otherwise. It was definitely a good job he cast that particular spell.
Keeping both spells active, Verdan gripped the handle and heaved back on the door, slowly dragging it back across the floor to let the light from his staff enter the room beyond.
A number of muffled moans and groans greeted his ears as he stepped inside, the suppression spell making them into soft whispers of pain. A dozen or so people were bound and laying wearily on the floor. His entrance woke them, but they were unable to do anything other than recoil from the sudden light in the room.
"Help, please, help us," one of the people closest to him cried out, the spell muffling it down to a hoarse whisper.
To Verdan's relief, they were speaking Imperial Common, just with a strange accent that he didn't recognise. It looked like they had won the war after all, not that it really mattered.
Putting his finger to his lips to silence them, Verdan leaned his staff against the wall next to the door. Binding the suppression spell to the staff as well, Verdan walked to the other side of the room, where he was outside the area of effect.
Kneeling at the first person he came to, Verdan saw a young man with a bruised face and a pale, unhealthy look. Giving him a quick once-over, Verdan saw no obvious injuries that would explain his weakness.
Verdan's gaze settled on the ropes binding the man, and he examined them more closely. Using his Aether sense, Verdan could feel that they were made from what looked to be threaded Cyth hair and imbued with a healthy dose of Abyssal energy.
The presence of such a concentration of corruptive energy against the skin would cause discomfort, pain, and illness over time. Not to mention how it would interfere with Aether manipulation and spellcasting.
The Imperial Academy used a similar situation to teach Wizards how to cast when being afflicted with outside energy. Verdan would be able to cast when restrained like this, but it would be an intensely unpleasant experience.
"Thank you, Lord Sorcerer, gods bless you," the young man whispered in an odd accent as Verdan undid the knot on the ropes and threw them to one side, absently wiping his hand on his cloak as he did.
"You can thank me by freeing the others. You should regain your strength now that you're away from the corruption." Verdan gave the man a gentle push to one of the others as he moved to the next person himself. The man had given him a strange look in return as Verdan had spoken, likely finding his accent just as odd.
One by one, all of the bound people were freed from their restraints. It was only as Verdan started to walk back to his staff that he saw a final form curled in the corner, covered in filth.
Each of the men and women he'd freed so far had blonde hair. The shades varied, but the basic coloring was the same. From what he could see, this last person seemed to have darker hair, though that could well be due to the filth that was caking them.
Still, the difference piqued his interest, as did the fact that none of the others was moving to their aid.
"No, Master Sorcerer," one of the liberated men stepped in front of him with a worried expression, as Verdan started towards the corner. "She's a Witch; if she's released in this situation, her powers could get us all killed."
The apprehension in the man's whispered words stunned Verdan. He'd fought against Witches in the past, but by and large, they were beloved by the common folk, being far more in touch with the land and nature than the average Wizard.
He also had no idea what a 'Sorcerer' was, and this was the second person to use the term, but now wasn't the time to argue semantics.
Fixing the man with a stern gaze, Verdan waited until he was out of the way before walking over to the Witch. She was beaten and bloody, had clearly been tortured by the Cyth, and was damaged in mind and body.
Checking her over as gently as he could, Verdan scowled in distaste as he found three different bindings of Cyth hair—one around her neck, one around her wrists, and the final one around her ankles.
Concerned for her health, Verdan moved her hair to check and cursed softly. Faint black lines could be seen around her neck, a visible mark of the corruption eating away at her from the inside.
She was at the borderline of what he could save. Anything more, and he'd have been forced to kill her himself.
Burning the bindings free with a slight application of fire-aspected Aether, Verdan took a deep breath and centered himself. He needed to act now if he wanted to save her.
"Iacha," Verdan spoke softly, holding a hand to her face as he envisioned a flow of healing and soothing Aether passing into her from his hand, isolating and purging the corruption.
Thankfully, the corruption had just begun taking hold, so he could destroy it before it became permanent. With that dealt with, Verdan used a second spell to clean off the worst of the filth and the dried blood, which would hopefully stop infection from setting in.
A wave of exhaustion hit Verdan as the spell took hold. The drain on his magic from this one spell was equal to everything else he'd cast since he’d woken up. He knew why, of course; it was his poor visualization, mixed with a broad effect against hostile magic. Thankfully, Verdan had the Aether to brute-force the situation like this. Otherwise, the witch would be dead.
Even so, the drain he felt was much higher than he'd expected. Turning his focus inward, to where his Aether was concentrated, Verdan realized that he hadn't circulated his Aether at all since he’d awoken.
Even worse, his gathering spiral had decayed and broken down without his oversight, putting his Aether draw-rate at that of a non-Wizard.
The gathering spiral was an essential thing that all Wizards were trained to do, to draw in Aether. After a time, it became second nature; he could only blame the confusion he'd felt at waking for not starting it again.
The problem was that, over time, the spiral would decay and lose its coherence, so it needed to be maintained at all times for the best efficiency.
Turning his mind's eye inward, Verdan started to push and pull on the ambient Aether in his body, sending it moving throughout him in a very loose spiral that culminated in the core of his being.
By pulling the magic from his extremities into the center, he would create a gradient that would help draw fresh Aether in from the environment more quickly, while also focusing more Aether in his core for use.
With the spiral created, it was a simple matter to partition another part of his mind to keep it running. When he had more time, he would work to compress and tighten the circle, which would speed the flow of magical energy and improve the benefits he received.
He was in no danger of running out of stored Aether, but it would be foolish to go any further without setting up at least the basic form of the spiral.
"Thank you," a soft voice whispered, drawing him back to the world around him as he looked down into the blue eyes of the Witch, his hand still on her cheek as she blinked blearily.
"Not at all. Rest for a few minutes and recover," Verdan said kindly, helping her sit up before moving back toward the huddle of people at the center of the room. "Now, who here knows how to fight?"
"I do," one of the men stepped forward, his face and arms bearing a multitude of scars, fresh and old alike. "I don't have the skills you do, but I am a fire enhancer."
"I can fight as well," a woman said from the back of the group before Verdan could answer. "I am an air and water manipulator."
"Frankly, I don't understand what any of that means. Please explain." Verdan said, confused in the extreme by their statements. There were lots of ways to manipulate magical energy, but the terms they were using were foreign to him.
"It means we can channel the elemental forces of the world through Essence, like you," the first man said with a frown that was mirrored on the faces of everyone else present.
"Okay. Well, you two do what you can do when we head up. Try to coordinate with each other to be as effective as possible," Verdan said with a shrug, noting that their confused looks only got more pronounced at his instructions.
Suppressing a building headache, Verdan turned to the remainder of the group. "Right—do any of you know how to wield a weapon at all?"
"We are traveling guards. We've got some training and can brawl a bit," Two men stepped forward, their faces alike enough that they had to be brothers. Verdan could see the muscles on their arms and the strength in their builds. They'd do for what he had planned.
"Why didn't you announce yourselves when I asked for fighters?" These people weren't making his life easy. There was no time for him to be repeating himself to get the information he needed.
"We're not Sorcerers. We have no Essential Essence," one of the brothers said with an embarrassed expression. The way he said it was almost as though he was ashamed, which made no sense to Verdan at all. He'd known these people for mere minutes, and he already wanted to pull his hair out.
"Right, moving on—what are your names?"
"Tim and Tom, Lord Sorcerer."
"Of course, what else would they be? Great. Okay, you two stay behind me when we head up, I'll get you a weapon each, and then you guard the rest of them while we three forge a path out of here." He gestured to the two self-proclaimed Sorcerers as he did. Noting how everyone but those two seemed relieved, while the two Sorcerers looked more confused than ever.
Before he could start to work out what issue they had with his plan, the door to the room swung open, and one of the Cyth guards walked in. Its eyes went wide, and it shouted something that was, thankfully, muffled by the suppression spell on the staff.
The Cyth’s moment of shock was enough for Verdan to throw an arc of compressed air at it with a slash of his hand, "Aer!"
A crescent of shaped air flew across the room like a chill wind, slicing the Cyth Lai's throat with a spray of black blood. His spell-enhanced reactions had let him act before it could call for aid.
There was a tense pause that hung for a few moments before the fire Sorcerer rushed forward and claimed the spear that the Cyth had been holding, picking it up and grasping it with the easy competence of a veteran fighter.
Verdan had intended to equip the two brothers with the first weapons they came across, but he wasn't going to argue at this point.
"Grab the body, drag it in, keep it out of sight," Verdan ordered the brothers, who quickly scurried over to grab the body and pull it into the room.
As soon as they were clear, Verdan shut the door once more and motioned everyone back. There was an opportunity here.
The captives inched forward anxiously, but obeyed Verdan's command and didn't come too close. He couldn't blame them, really; he could only imagine how desperate they were to get out.
Clearing his mind, Verdan waited patiently by the door with another spell primed and ready to go. His patience was rewarded when the door opened a minute later, and the second guard angrily stomped in. A point-blank blast of pressurized air ripped most of its throat out and sent it to join its comrade on the floor.
Snatching up the spear it had carried, and throwing it to Tim, Verdan turned to the others. "Tom, you get the next spear. Everyone else, it's time to go, but I want at least two of you carrying the Witch, understood?" He glowered at them until two people moved to gather up the Witch's limp form.
She'd lapsed back into unconsciousness almost immediately after Verdan had healed her. Not surprising, given how much corruption had been forcibly pushed into her body. Hopefully, she'd recover quickly.
Leading the group out of the room and starting up the tunnel to the surface, Verdan kept a watch for any more Cyth that might appear, the two Sorcerers a step behind him as he advanced.
They almost made it to the surface without issue. Verdan was all of ten feet from the entrance when two Cyth stepped inside, their forms framed by the daylight behind them.
The speed spell from earlier was still enhancing Verdan's reactions, so he snapped off a quick air spell at them before they could respond. A spike of compressed air hit the Cyth on the right, drilling straight through its chest.
A moment later, a spear flew past him to catch the second Cyth in the chest, cutting it off before it could call for help.
The fire Sorcerer dashed forward to retrieve his weapon, moving with the kind of speed that only magic could provide.
A small voice in the back of Verdan's mind noted that he hadn't heard the man utter any Words of Power to cast a spell, but now wasn't the time to ponder such things.
A few hurried steps brought him to the lip of the tunnel, letting him see that the surrounding Cyth had started to realize what was happening and raised the alarm.
"Niwlla," Verdan spoke, letting the sound suppression and magelight effects fade away as he held a hand out and released a vast plume of fog into the area.
The heavy fog swirled about as it flowed out to cover the exposed area between the buildings. It rose a good fifteen feet in the air before Verdan released the spell. Once he did, it started to settle, dropping down and spreading out beyond the initial area.
Spells like this had a high cost initially, but now that it was in place, he was free to move his attention elsewhere. For now, he would just keep his personal speed effect active. Verdan wanted to conserve Aether where he could.
"Aer torr," Verdan used a slight variant on the spell for the arc of compressed air. This one was sharper and packed more of an edge to it.
He always felt odd saying that there was an edge to air, but it was true nonetheless.
The arc of air rippled out through the fog, sending a surge of billowing mist out as it went. It formed whirling vortices in a frankly beautiful effect. Interactions between spells were always fascinating, but unfortunately, now wasn't the time.
The dark outline of the horned Cyth Lai he'd aimed at crumpled as the projectile struck it, other nearby Cyth crying out in alarm as they saw it fall.
"Now, move!" Verdan urged the others, motioning in the opposite direction that he'd sent the spell. The treeline was directly behind the tunnel entrance. If they could reach it, they would have a better chance of getting away.
The two Sorcerers were already on the move. The man was heading forward at a more-normal speed than before. His eyes were always on the move, however, and he moved to engage a pair of Cyth that came charging around the side of the building.
The woman, meanwhile, was moving forward in a more studied and careful manner as she made a series of gestures, and Verdan felt a foreign power cut him off from a section of the fog he'd conjured.
Before he could do anything, a fifteen-foot diameter area of fog around her condensed into a tight sphere, obscuring her completely but leaving a hole in their cover. Several Cyth caught sight of them and started charging their way, braying hunting calls as they came.
The area around them was thinner now, making it easier to see them and increasing the rate at which the whole fog cloud would decay. She had effectively ruined Verdan's plan to get away without a big fight.
The dense cloud of fog that represented the woman started to steadily move away from them, seemingly abandoning them without a second thought.
Verdan cursed her mentally but had no attention to spare right now. More and more Cyth were responding to the hunting calls from the few that had seen them. The male Sorcerer was still locked in combat, leaving just Verdan and the brothers to protect the rest.
"Tyn!" Verdan made a grasping motion toward a nearby Cyth, yanking it forward and across the ground to him. "Aer!" A blast of pressurized air sent it crashing down as it tried to rise, clawed hands grasping at its throat as it dropped the spiked club it had held.
Cracking the creature across the temple with his staff to knock it out, Verdan kicked the club over to Tom, motioning for the brothers to start taking people toward the trees. At least both of the brothers were armed now.
A flash of darkness out the corner of his eye made Verdan whirl and pull his staff up in front of him, "Ast!"
A blue half-dome appeared in front of him, rippling in place as a lance of dark energy slammed into it and exploded in a cloud of inky darkness.
