Ultimate magic, p.6
Ultimate Magic, page 6
Unless, of course, it really was touched by the Archon himself, at which point life was far stranger than Alec had ever allowed himself to believe.
Moving stealthily through the dojo, Alec walked over to a basin full of fresh, clean water. Tanuin made sure he had it ready every morning, as the elven ranger had stressed the importance of hydration on more than one long hike through the wilderness during Alec’s youth. Without letting Tanuin see, Alec pulled some of the element of water into the gleaming batteries at his belt.
This was one of Maimonides’s inventions, and one Tanuin didn’t know about. Unless the gnome had somehow gossiped about his creations with the elven ranger during some downtime after the Council meeting, Tanuin had no idea that the tiny crystals Alec carried with him always were actually powerful magical batteries, capable of storing the energy he pulled from nature using his natural magic. They augmented and amplified his power considerably, particularly when he could fill them without being noticed.
The shades continued to shuffle back and forth, undaunted. Unlike real foes, they seemed to care not whether he struck or when he decided to land the blow. They just shuffled back and forth like the half-formed clones in the Phantasmic Projector, the living embodiment of target practice.
Once Alec had enough water, he stuck a finger in a pot near the basin. None of his friends knew this, but Alec actually felt an echo of whatever type of energy he absorbed into his body before he used it to either cast a spell or fill one of his special bottles. Fire burned, water sloshed—but the energy of growing, living things filled Alec with the most special feeling of all. This energy was the core of life itself, and carrying it within Alec made him feel like he was about ten feet tall.
It also allowed him to form some amazing combinations with the other elements his powers allowed him to store and use. Such as combining the energy of growth with a few vials of water stored at his belt…
Alec struck out lazily at the nearest shade, banishing it from the mortal realm with a sheer exercise of his will. The exercise proved easier and easier to do all the time, though Alec still didn’t understand who or what the Archon wanted him to use this will on. While he pondered, he quickly sprinkled the energy of growth through each of the batteries at his belt, ‘pushing’ them with the same mental energy he used to banish spirits.
He struck, struck again—then turned to Tanuin with a wicked grin. “Hey, Tanuin—catch!”
Like someone who’d never been pranked by Alec Diamondspear before, the elven ranger stopped startled and spread his arms. Three of the vials shot from Alec’s belt on fingers of phantom force, breaking open in a spray of mingled growth energy and water.
What formed in those trails was a path of brilliant flowers. Blooms of a dozen different sorts erupted from the vials, forming thick vines that nearly knocked the elven ranger off his feet. Tanuin had just enough time to cry out in surprise before he was thrown backward, slamming against the nearby wall.
He stared at Alec in shock for a moment—then tossed back his head and laughed. Alec laughed along with him, and the tension in the room dissolved.
Gradually, the shades in the dojo began to disappear. Tanuin had dismissed them, using the strange relic he’d brought from his ranging to summon them back to whatever realm of Chaos they called home. Alec truly didn’t wish ill toward them, whoever and whatever they were. They hadn’t chosen to attack him, after all.
“How many times have you used that on one Eleira?” the ranger asked, picking a vine from the quiver of arrows strapped to his belt.
“A few,” Alec admitted with a smile. “She loves pretty flowers.”
“Of course she does,” Tanuin said, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. “She’s a damned Leafwalker. It’s in her blood.” He glanced up and down the floor of the dojo, as if waiting for an opponent to present themselves from some hidden corner he hadn’t anticipated. “Still, leave it to you to find the most romantic way possible to court your beloved using magic, and refashion it into a prank…”
Just then, a knock came on the door. Tanuin and Alec shared a look; the former cocked an eyebrow, as if expecting yet another prank to come from the young man he’d made one of his students.
“That wouldn’t be the elf girl now, would it?” Tanuin asked, a sly quality to his voice. “I thought I told you not to give visitors free passes to watch you train. Not that I’d blame you for wanting to show off in front of Eleira, mind you.”
Alec shook his head. “That’s not me,” he said, reaching out toward the door. “Hopefully nothing’s wrong.”
One battery of water magic remained at Alec’s belt. He pushed it with a mental tug, reworking the flow of water through the Ring of the Archon to turn it into the flow of a door swinging open. The dojo’s door swung open in return, revealing the sight of his mother, Hera, standing framed against the midafternoon sun.
“My son.” As always, a relieved smile spread across the face of Alec’s mother when she saw him. It was as if she hadn’t quite gotten used to the fact of having him around yet—like each time seeing him in the flesh continued to surprise her just a little bit. “Keeping him busy, are you, Tanuin?”
“Of course, ma’am,” the elven ranger said, tucking away his strange summoning device with a flourish. “The truth, however, is that I hardly need to push him. Your Alec has all the skills he needs to be a fierce warrior indeed.”
Hera stared at the empty space in the corner of the room, as if she could see the desiccated shells of the spirits Alec had been busy purging only a few moments ago. Perhaps, thought Alec, she could.
“He’s grown more skilled at using the Ring of the Archon,” Hera said, passing her hand back and forth in one of the vacant spaces. Yes, Alec reasoned, she could definitely see what he’d recently been doing. “What say you, Tanuin? Will our Diamondspear be sharp enough to cut the enemy down when the time comes?”
The elf made a face. “Alec has always managed to win the day when required,” Tanuin said noncommittally. “It’s not him I’d be worried about, my Lady. It’s making sure he’s surrounded by his team and his friends.”
“I’m not asking you about his team,” Hera said, a none-too-friendly smile spreading across her face. “What I’m asking you, Tanuin, is will my son be ready when the time comes? Will he be safe?”
The questions turned Alec’s stomach, though for a long moment he couldn’t figure out why. When the answer hit him, he turned quite red in the face.
“I’m right here,” he snapped, rising to his full height. “Why are you talking about me like I’m not in the room, mother?”
Hera caught herself just in time. The old woman came up short, her gray eyes blinking rapidly as she realized what she’d just done. In a sense, Alec could understand—as a leader among the Inscribers, Hera often had to think of people in terms of resources and raw manpower, rather than as individuals. A leader couldn’t allow themselves to get too close to the people they led, lest their judgement be impaired.
But Alec had never thought such rules could apply between a mother and her son.
Shame flooded Hera’s expression. “Tanuin,” she said in a gentler tone, looking suitably chastened, “might I have a word alone with my son? It will be a brief respite in training, I assure you. There are things I need to speak with him about that concern only the two of us.”
Tanuin looked like he couldn’t wait to get out of the chamber. The atmosphere had done nothing but thicken since Hera interrupted his training session. “Take all the time you need, ma’am,” the ranger said, shooting a wink and a sympathetic expression Alec’s way. Good luck, his old friend seemed to be saying to him, just before he took up his bundle and strode away. “I’ll be right outside—just touch base with me when you leave.”
“Of course,” Hera said smoothly. A few moments later, Alec and his mother had the training room all to themselves.
Mother and son stared at each other for a long moment. Now that Tanuin was no longer present as an outside observer, Hera could give full vent to her shame. The old woman grew older and frailer in Alec’s sight, her brave expression collapsing as she looked up and down at the boy she’d never gotten the chance to raise.
“Oh, my boy,” Hera said with a deep frown, rubbing Alec’s head. “My dear, dear boy. I’m afraid I’ve treated you very poorly, haven’t I?”
Hera appeared so regretful that Alec felt inclined to forgive her. “You’d have to do a sight worse to match the monks at the Archon Temple,” he said wryly, his memories of Master Abel’s ruler in the forefront of his mind. “At least you’ve never beaten me.”
Hera’s face fell. “That’s not much of a bar to clear,” she said, looking stricken. “Did they really beat you, Alec? My Gods, if I’d known, I would have hired Inscribers to take you from that place myself. I hate myself every day for allowing you to be taken away—”
“It was a very, very rare thing,” Alec said, lifting a hand. “Truly, it was no worse or more painful than when a parent spanks their child. I don’t think the monks’ hearts were in it when it came to punishing us.”
“That’s good,” Hera said in a relieved tone. “I’d hate to think of something like that happening to you, son. As if I don’t feel badly enough about the things I’ve done to you—”
“What’s this about beatings?”
Both Alec and his mother turned. Apparently Tanuin had strolled far enough away from the door of the training area that anyone who wanted to enter could do so without being stopped. Alec’s familiar, Trystara, stood leaning against the doorway, her elbow on the frame and her long claws tangled in her hair.
“We were just talking about the past,” Alec said. His heart lightened at the sight of the demoness. He knew it was unfair to think such things, but ever since meeting Hera, he sometimes remarked to himself that his familiar felt like more of a mother figure in his life than his actual birth mother. “Hera wanted to speak with me. I’m taking a break from training with the Ring of the Archon.”
Trystara gave Alec’s mother a sideways glance as she strolled across the room. Her leathery wings lay folded behind her back—not completely hidden from view, but not extended enough for flight, either. In the almost feline body language of Trystara, that meant she was wary but not looking for a fight.
“I’m glad I caught you two,” the demoness said, cocking her head to the side. A slight glimpse of fang showed beneath one pouty lip. “I saw Tanuin standing out in the hall and expected the worst. Are you alright, Alec?”
Now it was Hera’s turn to feel like the other people in the room were speaking about her as if she weren’t present. From the look on her face, Alec could tell that his mother didn’t like it one bit.
“He’s fine,” Alec’s mother said. “We were just discussing his progress with the Ring of the Archon—”
“Good,” Trystara said heavily, grinning in a most demonical way. “Because if you think you’re going to break this boy’s heart a second time, Hera, you’ve got another thing coming. Alec isn’t a little boy anymore.” The demoness spread her arms, her claws glistening in the candlelight. “And his friends won’t let anything happen to him.”
Hera’s expression collapsed. She looked at the demoness the way you might scrutinize a stranger on the street, wondering if they intend to pick your pocket or if they’re just making their way home.
Finally, the old woman let out a deep, tired sigh. “Is that really what you all think of me? Am I truly that awful?”
Alec and Trystara shared a look. It was clear from the demoness’s stance that she’d realized she’d gone too far—but knowing Trystara, there was no way for her to back down gracefully from her position. She was much like a protective father in that manner—headstrong and brash, prone to boasting and to beating her chest where her chosen family was concerned.
Finally, Alec stepped in. “Relax, Trys,” he said, shaking his head. He’d take shades of Chaos over interpersonal drama any day of the week. At least you could use a sword on the former. “I was just talking to my mother. There’s no reason to get upset…”
But Hera was very upset, indeed. “I can’t go back and undo what I’ve done,” the woman said, her eyes gazing out at the middle distance. Alec could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, her memories of the past unfurling like the imaginative phantoms the brain conjures during a deep reading session. “Gods know I would if I could, Alec. I know that you don’t know me, and that after all these years, you really don’t have any reason to. I should have stormed the gates of that Temple when you were a baby and taken you back, Chaos be damned!”
“But you didn’t,” Trystara said, cocking her head to the opposite side. The words were delivered simply, but the effect of them on Alec’s mother proved to be devastating.
For a moment, she looked on the verge of collapse. Then she drew herself up, her lips pinching shut like she’d bitten down on something sour. When she spoke, her voice sounded almost impossibly bitter.
“You’re right,” she whispered, wiping the side of her eye. “I didn’t. I’m sorry, son. I’ll… I’ll leave you two alone now…”
Hera turned as if to leave, a sob tearing its way from her throat. Alec heard it, and his own heart felt as if it had grown to the weight of a boulder. “Mom! Stop.”
The old woman paused in mid-stride, her footfalls muffled on the carpet of the training room. Behind her, a greasy torch cast wan shadows over the walls. “Yes, Alec? Is there anything else? Perhaps you’d like to let your familiar insult me a final time, just for good measure? Oh don’t look at me that way —I know I deserve it. I’m a damned terrible mother.”
“What Trystara says is true,” Alec said, threading the needle between the past and the present. He spoke with the clarity of a diplomat, the remnants of the Archon’s power still tingling through his fingers. “But things don’t have to stay that way. We can’t do anything about the past, but there’s still a future to think about.”
Both Hera and Trystara looked surprised, though for completely different reasons.
“Thank you, son,” Hera said, tears glistening in her eyes. “That’s all I’m asking. I know you don’t trust me—blazes, you might not even love me. That’s completely fair. All I want is for you to give me the opportunity to keep trying to connect with you. You’re my son, after all.”
Alec thought it over. “I’ll try,” he finally said, giving Trystara a warning glance. The last thing he needed was for the demoness to open her mouth again and start more trouble. He appreciated the fierceness of his familiar’s love—but sometimes, tact was a necessity.
“I’ll try, too,” the demoness finally said. She flashed the same toothy grin that had been the final sight of many a spider on the grounds of the Royal Academy. “But I won’t stop watching you, Hera. You wouldn’t believe how many students back at Alec’s school thought they could mess with the new kid. Right up until they found me sitting like a gargoyle at their windows in the middle of the night…”
Now there was an image to inspire shivers. Had Alec not faced down any number of horrifying foes, he might have been profoundly disturbed the idea of Trystara lurking outside his enemy’s windows. As it was, he just felt glad the demoness was on his side.
Hera withdrew as quickly as politeness would allow after that. The rift between Alec and his mother remained, but perhaps it had been bridged just a tiny bit.
It’s a paradox, Alec thought, looking at the gray skinned demoness who remained in the training room with him, but the only way to fix a wound like this is to open it. Once all the pus and infection have been leached out, only then can the true healing begin.
Alec wondered if Trystara had known that all along, or if she merely wanted to scare Hera. He thought of asking, then decided not to. After all, the end result remained the same.
“You’re incorrigible,” he said instead, laughing at Trystara. “Try not to scare my mother too badly, will you? I do want the two of us to have something like a normal relationship one day.”
The demoness shrugged, then slipped a scaly arm over Alec’s shoulders. “Of course, Master,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “If I’d really wanted to put the fear of the Archon into Hera, I’d have shown up today in my transformed form.”
Gods forbid, Alec thought, rolling his eyes. His mother would probably hide under her bed for a week.
A few moments later, a familiar face appeared in the doorway. Tanuin looked as if he’d walked by for just a moment to check on things, but he did a double take when he saw Alec and Trystara rather than Alec and his mother. Slowly the elf’s brows furrowed as he worked through must just have happened.
“Is… is everything alright?” the ranger asked, looking like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or scold his childhood friend. “Did I miss something?”
Alec and Trystara shared a look. Then they started to laugh.
“Nothing important,” Alec said, dismissing Trystara with a wave of the hand. “Let’s get back to training, Tanuin. When the time comes, I’m going to have to be able to use the Ring of the Archon like an extension of my own body. I’m going to have to slay quite a few more shades before I feel confident enough to use this thing in actual combat…”
Alec was close to losing himself in the rhythm of the fight when he looked up and realized Trystara had gone.
Chapter 5
Nessus was like no other city Alec had ever before.
Long before they reached the actual walls of the High Kingdom’s capital, they saw the landscape change. From the deck of the Titan’s Claw, sailing quietly over the hills, the sylvan scenery of the forest gradually melted away to well-tended fields, large farms, and suburban villages nestling in the long shadow of the High King’s city. These people couldn’t technically call themselves citizens of Nessus, yet they felt part of it all the same—in much the way a belt keeps a large man’s pants from falling down, the villages surrounding Nessus ensured a steady stream of food and other goods made their way to the tables of the high and mighty nobles within the inner city.
