The Starlit Wanderer Series – Chapter 5
Two and a half months before Inugela Nyrea met the heiress in Nadaru, he lived the adventure of his dreams. He and the rest of the Radiant Vanguards had just defeated Foretell, a powerful spellcaster who claimed she controlled a disease that had been ravaging the humans of Hophreda’an for almost a decade. They escaped her abode, believing all would be well, but that was not so. A single statement would set the cogs in motion, leading to Inugela’s present struggle.
‘Your master is dead! You’re free,’ said Ember, the human girl in their band of adventurers. The guard watching over Foretell’s domain didn’t immediately respond. Ember had the right intentions, but unfortunately, the guardian was a shadow knight, a deadly warrior from beyond the realms of Hophreda’an.
The six adventurers quickly understood that the loyal, dark guardian wouldn’t be so pleased about his master’s death. The shadow knight charged them in a rage. Whether to avenge his master or purely out of a lack of control, the knight cut young Ember down.
Inugela, too slow to take control of the situation, watched helplessly as not only one of his friends was hurt, but two. The knight swept his blade across Seraphina, blemishing her golden skin with crimson. With two Vanguards down, he knew there was only one solution–run. He didn’t hesitate in the slightest to lift Seraphina into his arms, burying all feelings of helplessness under the need for her to survive. He checked over his shoulder to ensure that Ember had been rescued, then everyone escaped through the tunnel leading into the mountain’s depths. They came to a stop outside the tunnel, uncertain of where to run.
‘Bramral, Vyrasira,’ Inugela said as he laid Seraphina at the feet of a burly golden-furred leonfolk and a crystalline-scaled draken woman. ‘Watch over her.’ He laid a hand on her wound, and green energy pulsed from his hand, halting the bleeding. With that, he swung around to face the charging shadow knight. He hurried back into the mouth of the cave, hesitating, he looked back once more to where Seraphina lay. Her eyes were open, and her wounds already seemed better. Thank goodness.
He called upon the well of primal magic that sourced his power and made a wish for safety. Great roots and vines sprouted about him, entangling and creating a thick wall between him and that beastly knight. Summoning the last of his strength–and the last drop of coffee from that morning–Inugela reached a hand to the sky, calling upon the element of the moon. Though it was day, the surrounding space darkened, and a beam of moonlight sprang from the ether, striking the cave’s entrance with a great crackle. With that, the entrance into the villainous Foretell’s abode caved in, saving the Vanguards from any further loss, and locking that dangerous shadow knight away… for a time…
✬ ✬ ✬
Inugela’s second encounter with the shadow knight didn’t end quite as successfully. With nowhere to run and no time to call on his magic, the knight’s blade slashed Inugela. It didn’t kill him outright, but it still hurt a lot—as broadswords do. The dark being threw Inugela into an empty storage chamber. On one hand, he stayed put because he stood no chance against it, but on the other, he was a little curious. He waited for them to leave, then tried to fix up the cut on his back with a simple healing spell, but nothing happened. Something about this room prevented the use of magic. Classic move.
And with that, Inugela waited. Day bowed to night, and then day again. He waited for four days, trying to keep the wound from getting infected. It was likely they wanted to starve him, and it was working–never had Inugela gone more than a day without something. He quickly realised how inconvenient life was without magic as his body weakened.
Trying to conserve his energy, Inugela turned to finding simple ways to pass the time. Its clean stone walls and strange compartment that hung from the ceiling reminded him of the last time he’d been here, when a fellow Vanguard verbally tore him to pieces about his feelings for Seraphina. Ah, the good old days. What I’d give to argue with Sylthyra again.
He fiddled with something between his fingers—the wooden ring. It was the only item he smuggled in when Wattabol and the shadow knight took all of his gear. Temptation to slide the ring on nearly took him, but he knew that would ruin the point of it. Does it really matter now? He didn’t want to think about it–the moment Seraphina would realise that he failed to honour their promise. However, his mind already pictured her standing alone on that cliff’s edge, waiting for hours or more, hoping to see him. He would never make it. Have I failed?
A tickle ran down his cheek, and he quickly swatted at it. Giving up wasn’t an option. He gathered strength one more time—strength he shouldn’t have. The last time he cried was the same day he joined the Radiant Vanguards. His sorrows inspired something more–determination.
This wasn’t over.
The entry door clicked and swung open. Inugela slipped the ring into his boot, folding his hands over his knees innocently. The shadow knight entered, two swords sheathed at his side this time.
‘Wattabol is ready to see you,’ he said in that deep, echoing voice.
This is my chance. Having spent some time alone with only his thoughts and memories, Inugela felt a new urge rise in him–mischief. What could have become anger and desperation, Inugela instead channelled into a sarcastic attitude. After all, he had a mere two days to make a journey over a quarter of the continent away–he had nothing to lose. I need to make this take as long as possible and give myself the best chance I have.
‘Give me a second—I’m dressed improperly,’ Inugela said with a pout.
The shadow knight silently waited for him to put a shirt on. Inugela repeatedly put the wrong buttons into the wrong holes, smiling all the while. The knight gripped his arm and twisted it, pushing him through the door and out into a small library room.
‘Ouch, easy there.’ Inugela hurried forward, as slowing down in this grip caused his shoulder to slip out of place. The wound on his back dribbled something horrid, so he searched for the knight in the corner of his eye. ‘Hey, friend… David. Can I call you David? That nasty cut from the other day is getting worse. Do you mind if I put a quick bit of healing magic into it?’
The knight, David, did not seem to care for Inugela’s request, but then said, ‘you may heal.’
Happy with that, Inugela placed his free hand onto his back and felt the cool rush of healing energy flow across the seam. For the first time in days, relief washed through him.
‘Now, I don’t wish to push my luck, however.’ Inugela summoned a small golden cupcake into his hand, with many yellow sprinkles dotted on top. ‘I’m a bit hun–‘
‘No food!’ The knight tore the cupcake out of Inugela’s hand and smeared it on the wall of the tunnel they passed through. The shadow knight then had to deal with the yellow sponge caught between the gaps in his gauntlet.
‘Aw, that was one of Bramral’s favourites.’ Inugela made that pouty face again, earning him both of his arms twisted behind his back. ‘Ow!’ He decided it best to play it safe until they’d reached wherever Wattabol was waiting. They passed into the room Inugela had first teleported into before being imprisoned, and Inugela quickly eyed a tunnel leading away. That was the way out, the direction he’d escaped through once before. If he could time it just right…
‘The tunnel still hasn’t been cleared. You cannot escape that way.’ The shadow knight released one of Inugela’s arms and reached out for a large disc on the wall.
Well that makes things difficult. Nice one, past me.
The shadow knight turned the massive disc, and the door they had just passed through closed, opening another door across the room. Now Inugela’s curiosity hit an all-time high–he’d never been this direction. They arrived at a two-way split, each way leading to a separate room. The knight pushed Inugela down the left path.
Ahead lay a room shimmering with bright colours. The smell of chemicals caught in Inugela’s nose, burning down to his lungs. Glass containers lined the walls from end to end, each with a colourful oozing liquid. The jars were in a satisfying rainbow order from left to right. Wattabol waited in the center with a jar of green ooze in hand.
Wattabol chuckled, and spoke through that expressionless black mask. ‘Look at you, the man who tore dow–’
‘I have a complaint to make!’ Inugela couldn’t help but stir up trouble again.
‘Wha?’
‘The service here is terrible! I haven’t eaten in days, and David here didn’t even let me eat a cupcake I made myself.’
‘Who’s Da–’
‘Oh, and I think you’ll find it’s a good idea not to let the wounds of your prisoner fester as mine did.’ Inugela tried to turn his back to show the massive split in his shirt and the scar beyond that. ‘I was quite proud not to have any scars, but now we’ll have to see.’ He tapped his foot and clicked his tongue. ‘I give this inn two stars. It would have been one, but I’m rather fond of this place–it’s nostalgic.’
‘Hit him, please.’
Upon Wattabol’s command, the knight hammered Inugela across the head with a heavy gauntlet. Cupcake crumbs flew across the room.
‘Chain him.’
As warm blood rolled down the side of Inugela’s head, something pinched his wrist–a manacle attached to the floor by a thick, linked chain. Finally, the knight released his grip. Inugela calculated a plan to escape again. He measured the length of the chain against the size of the room. Could he reach the stacks of coloured ooze? Surely one of them had to be some kind of corrosive liquid.
‘Now, do you want to know why you’re here, or not?’ Wattabol paced around Inugela, seeming to stay aware of his reach.
‘As long as I survive, I couldn’t care less, Wattabol. However, what happened to you? We weren’t that mean to you. We freed you from your old master, if you think about it.’ Inugela tried his hardest to lower his shoulders and seem small. Maybe Wattabol didn’t have control over himself. A nasty person like Foretell would surely use mind manipulation to command her minions.
Wattabol lifted his black mask, but only for a moment. He revealed an old gnomish face covered in warts and sores, the whites of his eyes red with blood. Fitting the mask back onto his face, he said, ‘I needed Foretell, all of us who worked here did. She was going to cure us as thanks for our help in her work.’
‘Why don’t you just go find a cleric? Healing disease is a big part of what they do.’ Inugela kept turning to face Wattabol, afraid that the being would cast some horrendous skin-ruining magic.
‘Not when your disease endangers everyone within fifty meters of you.’
‘Just get one to make a house cal–’
‘Shut up! I’ve come this far.’ Wattabol gasped. He shoved a pointed finger at Inugela.
‘Alright.’ Inugela raised his hands in defeat, clamping his teeth together. ‘Why am I here?’ Inugela wobbled his head around.
‘Because Foretell might not be dead.’
Chills like a frost snap held Inugela in place. Lies, surely.
‘She’s come back before, but she just needs a new body, and unfortunately, all of her backups in her laboratory were destroyed or stolen in your little raid. So, I thought she’d appreciate taking the form of someone who helped bring about her demise. Originally, I was planning on taking that silver-haired elf in your group, but then I scried upon you. You’ve been travelling alone, which makes you an easy target.’
‘You spied on me?’ Inugela said, covering his chest with his free hand. ‘What did you see?’ A grin crossed his face.
Wattabol almost answered that question, almost.
‘You’re insufferable, you know that?’ Wattabol growled. He finally stopped circling the fey elf.
‘Remember the silver-haired elf you mentioned and the human girl? They taught me well.’ Inugela shrugged, clattering the chain links. He tapped his nose with the tip of a finger, with a grin to mask his real thoughts. Come on, Inugela, you’ve got to come up with a way out of this!
‘Say, what took you so long? I saw one of your portals almost two months ago.’ Inugela scrunched his face into a sarcastic grimace, wishing to insult Wattabol’s poor aim in avengement of Olive, but he kept that choice of words tucked behind his lips.
‘Enough chatter.’ Wattabol clutched the jar of green ooze in his hand and held it up, chanting something in a language that just sounded like gargles and spitting. The stone floor beneath Inugela’s feet glowed. Roughly drawn circles flared, like little blue bubbles about him. It was cute until he realised that this was another, more powerful, teleportation spell.
‘What are you doing…’ A sourceless wind whirled in the room, drowning Inugela’s voice out. Glass rattled, and some hit the floor, splattering in a colourful mess. Even the shadow knight covered his face as the goggles of Wattabol’s mask glowed a sickly green. The jar in his hand shattered, and the green ooze evaporated.
A multicoloured liquid hurricane swirled around them. The wall of wind and dangerous substances burned a ring into the stone floor. As it struck the ceiling, powdered stone and dust fell back down onto Inugela. He held the sleeve of his shirt over his mouth, hoping to halt the burning sensation that scorched his throat with every breath. The burning chemicals made his eyes water. Something in the whirlwind shifted.
Amidst the chaos of colours and chemicals, a silhouette appeared. Its long robes billowed in the wind, and its eyes glowed the same green as Wattabol’s.
‘I ‘ave arrived,’ echoed a deep feminine voice.
Instantly, Wattabol dropped the magical spell, and colours splattered across the walls and ceiling. Silence took the room. Wattabol bowed to this unknown figure.
The shadow knight rattled.
Inugela frowned.
The being appeared to be a normal person. Long and silky black robes wrapped around her feminine form. Shoulder-length brown hair cupped her fine facial features, and long canine ears protruded through it. Those features reminded Inugela of a very secluded group of people called Quitan. She gazed upon the room as if everyone were just odd pieces of furniture.
‘Well, where am I?’ she asked, eyes narrowed to Inugela’s chain.
‘You’re back in your lair, oh great Foretell, in a new body.’ Wattabol lifted his head, raising his beak to see this new being. Inugela could have imagined it, but he swore Wattabol’s head jerked back slightly. Was something wrong?
‘So I am.’ Foretell waved a hand at the shadow knight. ‘That is my spellbound servant, correct?’ She snapped her fingers, and the knight stood at attention. ‘Fun.’
‘My master, it is such a joy to have you back.’ Wattabol finally stood, but bowed his head again. ‘To be honest, I originally chose this prisoner as your new body, but it seems you’ve found one for yourself. You did always prefer a certain aesthetic.’
‘Indeed. Alright, escort me to where I normally work.’ Foretell gestured to the exit.
Wattabol skipped ahead of her, but froze when she didn’t follow. Foretell looked at Inugela for a few moments. Did she recognise him? She waved a hand at the shadow knight. ‘Draw yer weapon.’
The shadow knight did just that, holding its broadsword at the ready.
‘Kill the prisoner.’ She left the room.
‘Instead of taking you to your lab, I have something special to show you.’ Wattabol’s voice echoed and faded as they swiftly left the fey elf and the shadow knight to face off.
The knight lifted his blade.
‘Hold on, Dav– knight! This isn’t righ–’ Inugela clenched his teeth and leapt back. The weapon struck his chain, but it hardly scratched the links. ‘Freaking h–’ He scampered aside again as the blade swung at him, just barely nicking the top button off his shirt. He weaved around some more attacks before leaping directly at the knight. Inugela planted both feet on the knight’s chest and kicked, sending the knight stumbling backwards. Again, the knight charged at him, but Inugela quickly slid past the knight, pulling the chain taut. He swept the knight off his feet. The knight clattered like dropped crockery. Inugela jumped onto its back.
Now what? He struggled with what to do with himself, knowing full well that the knight wouldn’t stay down long. Then he saw it—the knight’s longsword hung in its sheath at the hip. He drew it before the knight could throw him off and held it up to the light. The double-edged blade had a black handle and guard, with knight’s helm emblazoned in the centre. Long streaks of white metal split from the helmet, like rays of sunlight touching each end of the guard. The sharp steel shimmered with different colours for a moment, like the colours in oily water. Then, it dimmed to silver steel with a slight white glow to its edges.
Ducalvicus steel? Inugela whipped the blade around, then leapt off the rising back of the knight. He threw the sword into his chained right hand, laying the flat of its blade over his left arm.
‘Why don’t you use this blade instead of that mangy black sword?’ he asked. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘I cannot,’ said the knight. ‘I swore only to use it in the name of my first leader.’
Wait a minute. A ducalvicus steel blade with the symbol of a holy knight’s helm? This shadow knight is…
‘I must end you with this blade, as per my master’s orders.’ The shadow knight lifted his blade and clutched Inugela’s chain in one hand. It swung to sever Inugela in two.
‘Shar Lune!’ Inugela cried.
The broadsword clattered to the ground. The knight fumbled and had to catch himself. ‘What did you just say?’
‘I said Shar Lune.’
‘How do you know her name?’ The knight’s helm clanked as it tilted to the side.
Relief washed over Inugela. Finally, he had a chance at survival.
‘Well, she’s one of the most famous historical figures in Hophreda’an. The queen who established not only the beginnings of the Hophreda’anian government but also hypothesised the idea that magic and science are the same.’ Inugela didn’t break his stance, letting himself smile as the being paused in shock. ‘I’ve spent some serious time in libraries on my travels, and I learned all about Shar Lune’s Chevaliers–women and men who fought with ducalvicus steel blades granted to the Queen’s forces by the kingdoms of old Fearann Mara.’ Inugela froze as the knight picked up its black blade. The being tightened its grip on its sword.
‘No matter what you know, you must perish, as per my master’s request.’ The shadow knight readied to strike again. ‘If I do not complete this, she will take full control of me and kill you, anyway. Ready yourself.’
‘No!’ Inugela cried. ‘That’s not her decision to make. Maybe Foretell would have before, but something felt wrong about her, like she’s lost power in this place. I don’t think that woman is even her. The spell Wattabol cast was supposed to give Foretell my body, not summon an entirely new one.’
The knight hesitated once more.
‘You are a knight who once established peace and order in Hophreda’an. I don’t know what turned you into this undying creature, but I know that your heart of valour and honour is still in there. Your comrade is leading a stranger to a dangerous laboratory. Who knows if she’ll even let him live once she’s there.’
The knight’s blade lowered.
‘No one is in control of you now. You can fight for the values you once stood for, with pride.’
The knight lifted his sword once again, swinging it down on Inugela. Steel clattered on steel as the chain holding Inugela split. Inugela cheered, waving his cuffed hand about. If he were honest, he felt the urge to make a break for it, but his own words from seconds ago came back to bite. He looked up to those shining red eyes of the shadow knight and smiled.
‘I just have one question.’ Inugela twirled the blade in his hand. ‘Seeing as you’re bound by oath and all to use this, could I borrow it until we get my blade back?’
The knight silently turned and made for the door.
‘Alright, off to the creepy lab, then.’
‘No,’ the knight bellowed. ‘Wattabol is going to take her somewhere else, and it is far more terrible than the lab.’
Hurrying through the tunnels that twisted and split, Inugela and the knight made it to another area he’d never been. Passing into a strange room with a burned stone floor, they arrived at an enormous crack in the wall. The knight squeezed through first, leading the way into a new and wide-open space. Torches dimly lit pillars that stood tall on either side. Old carved images of battles led by titan-like creatures covered the walls. One of those creatures held its fist in the air, leading a charge with a glowing wrist, it seemed.
‘A Ruin of the Catalyst,’ said that feminine voice from before. ‘Who’d guess there was one hidin’ under this old dingy lab?’ She arose from a staircase at the far end of the room, alone. In one hand, she held Inugela’s silvery sword—in the other, a stone wristband, segments covered in glowing runes.
‘Who are you?’ Inugela and the knight lifted their weapons.
‘Me?’ the woman asked with a titter. ‘Why, I’m Foretell, back from the dead.’
‘Lies!’
The woman laughed heartily, then pouted at the pair. ‘Aw, can’t I have any fun?’ She slowly trotted forward, humming to herself and spinning the stone band in her hand.
The knight looked at Inugela and cleared his undead throat.
Inugela scowled at his new companion. ‘Oh, don’t you dare say it. She and I are nothing alike… David.’
The woman flicked her wrist, and the torchlight in the room burst into pillars of flames. ‘I can see you’re both a bit out of touch with the times, so let me put it simply.’ She let the torchlight dim down again. ‘I am a simple mage in search of all forms of teleportation, Rali Wyndesnar.’
Inugela and the knight shrugged.
‘Where’s Wattabol?’ Inugela gradually closed the gap before Rali.
‘Oh.’ Rali grimaced. ‘You mean that pile of ash over there?’ She gestured to the far side of the room, where a small pillar of powder rested. ‘Yeah, didn’t need him, so I got rid of ‘im. No need for useless fodder. Though he did scream and run in an amusin’ way.’
Inugela’s face curled into a snarl. ‘How dare you kil–’
‘Inugela.’ The knight held out his hand. ‘I would like my sword back. I will do battle with this mage.’
Inugela hesitated, but handed the blade over.
‘I may not be fighting in the name of my queen, but I do fight in the name of my honour, and for the vengeance of my colleague.’ The black helmet turned to the ash pile for one moment, then he sheathed his broadsword. He took up a stance, both hands on the ducalvicus blade’s hilt and one foot forward. ‘You walk upon these grounds as if you own them, Rali Wyndesnar. Your thievery, as well as taking the life of one who has killed no person, shows your lack of respect for others. I, Coellan Midswather, will not allow you to taint Hophreda’an with your evil any further.’
Coellan charged–blade lowered.
Rali smiled.
Inugela saw it.
Coellan closed in.
Rali lifted the silver blade.
Inugela trailed behind the knight.
Coellan lifted his weapon.
Rali cast a spell.
Inugela responded.
As a bolt of lightning left the tip of Rali’s weapon, Inugela traced a faint shimmering symbol in the air. The sigil burst and reappeared on the back of Coellan’s helm. Like a magnet, the electricity arced and struck the symbol instead of Coellan. Lightning split in all directions, radiating behind Coellan’s helm like brilliant sun rays.
‘What?!’ Rali screeched. She cast a protective spell. Energy swept over her, blocking Coellan’s mighty blow. The impact forced both of them to stumble backwards, but Coellan recovered first. He swung his sword into the air again, ready to strike. Rali reacted. She lifted one finger, a finger that glowed a sickly green. A tiny bolt of grimy green energy zipped through the air.
Coellan’s feet shifted as he clutched his sword, thrusting it in front of him like a shield. Beams of bright light shone from the guard of the blade, forming a barrier of pure energy.
The green spell struck the screen of light, but didn’t penetrate it.
‘Die!’ Rali screamed. She pressed further into her spell, and the bolt of green energy grew. The stronger bolt cracked the shield, but not before Coellan responded.
‘Fool of a mage. I died a long time ago. You cannot claim my life,’ Coellan thundered. He peered back toward Inugela. ‘Inugela Nyrea, I bequeath this blade to you. Honour me by using it to protect those around you.’ With that, the shield of Shar Lune’s last Chevalier failed, and the bolt of green energy struck his temple. Green energy spread across his armour, cracking it and withering it as it moved. Coellan continued to push. Bellowing his last battle cry, he thrust his blade into the mage’s gut. With that, his armour and broadsword crumbled into dust.
Inugela couldn’t believe what just happened. The helmet slowly rolled across the ground, then came to a stop. It turned to ash.
‘I don’t believe this!’ Rali screamed. She clutched the grip of Coellan’s blade and yanked it out, then threw it onto the floor. ‘Useless piece of–’ She froze, probably because she realised Inugela had disappeared.
Inugela pressed his back against the nearest pillar, gasping for breath. Somehow, he needed to cross the twenty-meter room without being struck by lightning or some green death energy. Come on, Inu, think! Don’t let Coellan and Wattabol down.
‘Where’d you go, fey elf? Was it Inugela Nyrea? Who cares, you’ll be dead soon!’ Rali’s voice turned harsher by the second, like a sickness was taking her. Maybe that was true. ‘Anyone ever called you Ray-ray before? I think it suits you.’
Inugela kept his mouth shut, hoping that maybe she would come to him.
‘Where are you!?’ she screamed. A bolt of lightning struck the exact pillar Inugela hid behind. Pieces of it slammed into the far wall.
Goodness, calm down. She was clearly afraid. Afraid of the importance Coellan had just placed upon Inugela. She must have recognised the magic he’d used to protect the knight–old magic.
‘Can’t waste my power.’ Rali hummed to herself and then exclaimed like a small child. ‘I wonder if this will tease you out. Guess what it is.’ She made the sound of a bag being shaken.
My things!
‘That little whelp had it and was so eager to show me your gear. Let’s see.’ Some rattling echoed about the room. ‘Oh, some gross dry food.’ It hit the floor with a thump. ‘A potion, no, three potions! My goodness, you were prepared. I think I’ll drink the healing one, keep this strange pink extract, but I don’t need a potion to breathe underwater.’ Something shattered, making Inugela flinch.
He remembered something. Oh, please don’t be in there. Please tell me Wattabol stole it.
‘Nice chain shirt.’ Clinking filled the room. ‘A single bracer.’ Clang. ‘Oh my, I just landed it on that stupid sword like a ring toss game. You should have a look… Anyway.’ More rustling. ‘I don’t need it, but what’s this? This is cute. It’s a little wooden medallion with a lion on it, but I’m sure it means nothin’ to you.’
That object was extremely sentimental to Inugela–a gift from his friend Bramral after he saved them from the shadow knight, Coellan. Timber battered against steel. Did it land near the sword?
‘Doesn’t look like there’s much left except money.’
Inugela sighed with relief.
‘Although there’s a ragged old blue coat in here.’
No!
‘And it has something in it. Oh, how pretty!’ The sound of Inugela’s bag and old clothing slumping on the floor filled his ears louder than anything else. ‘It’s a cute blue and purple orchid in glass. I might actually keep this one.’
Inugela’s nails clawed the stone pillar. He chewed the inside of his lip to keep it shut, then tasted iron. Don’t fall for it. In frustration, he smacked the stone pillar with his fist.
‘I heard that.’ Rali’s voice had returned to its level tone from when they first met. ‘Sounds like this is quite important. Is it something you made as a child? A memory of someone special? A gift?’
Silence.
‘Yes, it must be important. I wonder, if I use it as a catalyst, I should be able to teleport to the one who made it and bring them back here.’
No way she can do that.
‘Let’s try it.’
She’s lying.
‘Ah, there she is. Such pretty green eyes, oh, and that golden skin is just astonishing. I’ll retrieve her now.’ With that, a whirring noise and chanting filled the room.
Inugela snapped. He raced around the pillar just in time to see a swirling mass of grey mist surround Rali. ‘Don’t you dare touch her!’ he roared. Inugela unleashed a magical ability from deep within him. He flashed like a bright light, teleporting a short distance. As particles of light faded about him, he reached down and grabbed hold of Coellan’s sword and the small wooden coin. He flashed again, teleporting inches away from Rali.
Her face turned from smug to astonished as Inugela crashed into her mid-spell, throwing her chants off. Rali Wyndesnar and Inugela Nyrea vanished from the ruins beneath the mountain, transported somewhere else entirely…
“When one seeks magic purely for control, it is rarely from a good place. Control is another method used to make those who wield it feel powerful. And those who use it are the most prone to that ever-driving force we all know as fear. All who sow it will reap ill rewards.”
– C. Depliagus, The Depths of the Mage