Chapter 9 - The Most Powerful Mage

| Marc Pelzer | Meletios Ioannidis

"How dare you speak to me like that, mere sorceress?!" The figure let the protective magical veil fall and gradually became visible. It was a middle-aged man dressed in noble velvet garments, yet over them, he wore an old, worn-out hooded cloak. He presented an absurd image. As the person raised his head and removed the hood, he revealed his magical, hate-filled eyes that stared down the corridor like dark rubies. With a loud hiss, Gemon drew his sword from its sheath and held it in a ready stance. The mage did not deign to look at him. He was entirely focused on Yaena.
 
The court sorceress thought sharply: "What kind of magic was that? Was this mage just putting on a show, or was he hostile?" When she heard Gemon draw his sword, she made a split-second decision. She slightly relaxed her posture, hid her hands behind her back, and then spoke as imperiously as before: "We accept your task, the guard will now lead you away and interrogate you. Any resistance will be considered hostile." She slightly turned her head and gestured for Gemon to approach the mage. Although he was not pleased about it, he approached the mage without delay. Enraged by how he was being treated, the mage raised his hands, gathered magic, and hurled a lightning bolt at Gemon. This was what Yaena had been waiting for; she had been gathering potential behind her back and now hurled it in the form of a simple but strong shield between the two. Indeed, the shield intercepted the lightning bolt, and the magic discharged against the stones of the wall, some of which shattered under such strain. From this point on, it was clear this intruder was an enemy.
 
Gemon realized this as well. He used the burst of magic away from him to surge toward the mage, stretching out to stab him. He was not fast enough. The mage stepped back. "Enough!" he snapped. His eyes sparkled, and around the corner of the corridor, one of the guards appeared. Suddenly, Yaena understood where this powerful magical potential came from. The guard had not put on his helmet. His eyes were empty and lifeless, his face expressionless. He rushed unnaturally toward his captain and struck at his head with his halberd. But Gemon was quick and well-trained. There was a reason he had become captain. He parried the blow, brought his blade onto the shaft of the halberd, and slid along it to the unprotected hand. It was a clean cut, which even the light armored gloves of the guard could not stop. Yet, although the weapon clattered to the ground, the mage’s puppet showed no reaction. It seemed incapable of even noticing the injury to its hand. To make matters worse, it now began to rain fists down on Gemon. He deflected them repeatedly, countering, but to no effect. Meanwhile, the mage laughed maliciously. "You are not bad, I’ll give you that. You will lead my army. For that is what you will owe your god!" Parry after parry, Gemon was driven further back. "To me, I have an idea!" she called to the fighting man.
 
Although she couldn't stabilize runes, forming them in her hands was possible. She just had to get close enough. As Gemon fell back, she pressed herself as close to the wall of the corridor as possible. "Further back!" They were almost past her. Now, she half-heartedly flung a light towards the mage to distract him briefly. Then she jumped into the middle of the corridor behind the cursed guard and placed her hands on his armor. As quickly as she could, she formed a rune of compression. She had never moved her fingers so fast. It was probably not a particularly good rune, but it began to work. Both she and Gemon leapt away from the guard. He no longer moved. He began to glow faintly, and with jerky steps and twisting steel, he began to shrink until he became a shapeless mass in the form of a stone. The mage’s compressed spell shattered with a hissing sound so loud it almost burst their eardrums.
 
Immediately, Yaena manifested a magical barrier between them and the mage. It worked again. Layer upon layer added itself at full speed to thicken the wall and withstand the approaching attack. And it came. The mage was beside himself. He screamed furiously and created a sea of black flames around him. It devoured all the furniture, all the carpets, and covered the masonry with pulsating soot. The glowing barrier held back the flames. That only made him angrier. His sleeves burned away, revealing the mage’s arms. Under the skin, veins seemed to glow with magical, red lines through his body. Yaena had never seen anything so threatening. Always feeling superior with her gift of magic, she now knew she could only fight for her life. Black fireballs crashed against the barrier, shattering the layers with each attack. Yaena was already exhausted. Nevertheless, she continued to strengthen the barrier as best she could. However, it lost thickness faster than she could reinforce it. Gemon noticed this too. He grabbed a wooden side table, smashed it against the wall, and broke off three of the four legs to make a makeshift shield. It would be of no use, but at least he felt a little safer. If he had ever said he had looked death in the eye, it had been a blatant lie. Nothing matched this moment, this mage in front of him. This was death.