Aethertide (Chapter 8)

A long time ago.

With the early morning mist hugging the writhing roots of the forest’s ancient oaks and twisted hazels, the old wizard thought of his home plane and how he had come to love this one almost as much. His purple Magi robes dragged through the undergrowth, and he let the brambles snag at the hem without a care for the last of the golden thread that still clung there.

Where a cluster of hawthornes blocked his passage, he gave a casual wave of the hand and they bowed out of his way. He regarded them as he passed through unhindered. He didn’t remember them being there when he had come this way last. Had it really been so long?

Finding his old path once more, he followed it down the slope to the edge of the lake where the water whispered on the shore. Another wave of the hand and the water began to bulge upward, a pathway of glistening rocks rising from beneath the surface to provide a wandering path out across the lake, disappearing into a dense fogbank.

If only they could see him now, the villagers would be astounded. Already they spoke in whispers about where he had come from, even what he was.

Devil. Madman. Sorcerer. Wizard.

They had so many names for him that he had stopped keeping track and he had long since forgotten the name given to him at birth. Most recently, he preferred what his young charge called him, a term of endearment from a child he held dear: Merlin.

It was this name that he bore across the lake, letting the muddy hem of his robe drag in the water as he hopped deftly from rock to rock. When he stepped close to the barrier of fog, he paused for a moment, peering up and down its length and then back over his shoulder. He hadn’t been followed. Of all the miracles that he had performed here, he wanted this last act to remain unseen. For what lay beyond the barrier was not only his most dangerous act to date, but also a revelation of his true nature, his origins, and his dark purpose.

Taking one last look at the forest of this beloved plane, he took a steadying breath and leapt forward, the fog swallowing him whole.

Merlin’s feet met stone at the island’s edge. Encircled in fog, the small island was untouched by foul English weather or a sense of time. The hazy sunlight peeled away as Merlin passed through the fog, and he landed by moonlight. A grassy slope led to the island’s centre where a single tree leant out over a pond of crystal water surrounded by squat rocks. Setting his feet on this stone edge, Merlin stared down into the water and pondered its true depth before holding his palm out over it and taking a deep breath.

“By the power bestowed upon me by the twin courts of Faerie, I summon thee, Nymph.”

Styr rushed through the rest of his speech, eager to burn the villager and be away. There was much work to be done with the knowledge of a new Allander in An’Mor.

“Thus, the will of the Magi is done and the kinship between us and the people of An’Mor is solidified. Let no one who has broken the three laws tear apart the friendship between our realms. Let no one who has broken the laws be suffered to live,” he said hurriedly.

On the stake, Raisa let out a whimper of pain through her gritted teeth as the first flames licked at her feet. Tears and sweat streamed down her face, stinging her eyes, and for the first time, she actually regretted hitting the Magi apprentice even if he deserved it. She muttered a name to herself, her mother’s, and hoped that she would be waiting for Raisa once everything was ashes. As a piece of kindling caught fire, the flames popped and embers burnt into her calf. She moaned loudly, hoping that no one would hear it and refusing to scream for as long as she could help it.

“It will be over soon,” she whispered, but she didn’t believe herself.

Pooph

The air beside her exploded with purple aether gas and there stood Olivia, beside her once more. Olivia regarded the situation and gulped.

“Oh dear. Father said that good morals get people into trouble. I hope he was also right about being worth it,” she said.

Olivia looked at Raisa, face plastered with sweat, eyes and cheeks glistening with tears in the firelight.

“I thought you had escaped,” Raisia groaned.

“I did. But you said you had no friends to rescue you.”

Raisa grimaced and Olivia thought that it might have been a smile through the pain. “I didn’t think I did,” Raisa said.

“We’re both having an unconventional day. Hold on,” Oliva said and wrapped her arms around her friend in a fierce embrace.

On their podium, the Magi stood aghast.

“Guards!” Aki shouted, gesticulating wildly. “Don’t just stand there. Shoot them!”

Morn and his trio ran forward, nocking arrows and drawing back to fire.

“Olivia. We have to go,” Raisia muttered.

“I know,” she replied, fiddling with her Aetherdrive control module. “If I can stretch the trans-aetheric bubble slightly…”

Arrows thudded into their target, their fletchings bursting into flames.

With a pooph Olivia and Raisa reappeared, sprawled on the ground fifty yards away. Oliva checked her wrist, the aether battery now discharged and empty.

“Oh bugger. Not enough power for two,” she said.

Across the square, they could hear Aki screaming orders and the thud of feet.

Raisa jerked Olivia to her feet with little effort and, with one last look over her shoulder to her flame-lit village and the guards running toward them, she showed Olivia forward and yelled: “Run!”

Olivia tried. But she was yanked back onto her heels and half choked as her blouse was pulled against her throat. She half-turned to stop herself from falling and found the grimacing Morn had a handful of her clothing and was holding her fast.

“Got you. Back to the pyre with you, All-lan — ”

Raisa’s fist smashed into his jaw and relieving him of consciousness. Olivia watched as Morn’s pupils yawned open, his jaw slackened, and he hit the ground like a felled tree. Olivia was yanked off her feet again, this time side-by-side with Raisa, her feet stuttering into a full sprint.

Arrows hit the ground behind them, bouncing, skidding along between their feet as they ran. Olivia snapped one with her boots and almost tumbled but there, again, was Raisa’s steadying hand.

The edge of the village was in sight, the jungle’s impenetrable darkness reaching out to claim them, swallow them. The air exploded in a huff of purple smoke and there stood Aki, between them and their escape, a grim look on his face.

“Halt, in the name of the all-powerful Magi, lords of the prime dimension. You will not assault me again, primitive!” he yelled.

Raisa didn’t even break stride. Her forearm smashed into his chest, flipping the apprentice over onto his back and slamming him into the dirt. And they were gone, Olivia and Raisa, lost to the jungle night.

A huff of purple and Styr appeared beside Aki as the apprentice gasped for air, tears streaming down his face and pain wrapped around his chest like a python.

“Get up, you clod,” the Archmagi said with only the faintest interest in his apprentice.

“I — I’m sorry, Archmagi,” Aki wheezed. “That warrior caught me unawares.”

“Again,” Styr added. His eyes were fixed on the moonlit jungle as if he could see right through it to Olivia and Raisa’s retreating backs. “Never mind. They won’t get far in the jungle at night. They’ll be something’s meal by morning.”