A Wizard's War

As a result of the ancient magic which tethered his soul to his body, Akar Kalayvan’s body was attempting to stitch itself back together even as chunks of the flesh were torn from it by the monstrous creature formally known as Lord Julian Crusnik. His eyes fluttered open and he began to emit the most terrified shrieks imaginable. His screams filled the small dark chamber as the beast continued to feast on his charred flesh.

Yidian felt a chill run through them as they heard Akar stir and begin to beg for their torment to stop. The man was being actively torn apart as his body and soul clung to life once more. Yidian knew it was everything Master Akar deserved after his terrible treatment of Simon, but they couldn’t withstand the blood-curdling screams echoing through the chamber. The Crusnik beast was a threat to all of them and had to be stopped, Yidian knew they would need help in this regard.

Yidian felt the power at Simon’s core, however weak, the hunger of the Seeded One was always insatiable. Yidian knew the mindless beast would be driven by the basest instincts and they hoped sexual desire would be among them. Simon’s body oozed with power, and from every pore a fume, like overpowered pheromones, flooded the space. It was invisible and imperceptible, but the power was potent, even in Simon’s broken state.

Crusnik stopped his feasting and turned in surprise, sniffing at the air like a creature in a season of rut. A lascivious grin exposed Crusnik’s sharp teeth as he moved toward Simon lying on the floor.

“Not… forgot… you,” Crusnik growled with much effort as he approached. Yidian could see the fabric of Crusnik’s robes straining as his now monstrous cock grew harder. It was likely the rival of the troll but instead of warm and sustaining, it would be filled with cold dead seed. Yidian recoiled at the thought, but they had succeeded in distracting the beast.

Akar moaned in pain on the ground, trying to drag his body toward the exit. He left a trail of blood as he made slow progress with his weakened body. Akar began calling for help as he reached the corridor, furious that his cowardly guards had fled.

Simon’s legs were limp as Crusnik hoisted them up into the air for easier access. Yidian could see the uncontrolled hunger in the beast’s face as he sought to impale Simon with his massive cock. Yidian willed the body to move, they longed to fight back, but at the same time steeled themselves for the brutal insertion.

Akar’s screams were finally answered, but not by anyone he recognized. A pale figure with long, flowing, silver hair appeared like some sort of phantom. His face was handsome, but severe in an intense and unsettling way. He was clad in spiked, black armor which clanked on the hard floor as he made swift progress through the passage.

Yidian gritted their teeth as the Crusnik beast attempted to shove inside of Simon’s tight hole. Crusnik growled and grunted like an animal as he thrust again and again trying to penetrate deeper with little success. Yidian feared Simon’s leg would be torn off by the beast or the body completely broken by the terrible creature. Just as their hope was fading, the sound of steel rang through the room.

Crusnik gave a final, quizzical tilt of his head, before the head rolled from his body. The sword had cut so smoothly, leaving an even flat line at the space where the neck truncated. As Crusnik’s body collapsed upon Yidian, Simon’s body was drenched in the corpse’s blood, which now poured in great gouts from the severed neck. Their savior stood over them like a silver-haired wraith glaring into their soul.

“What are you?” the man snarled as he looked down. His eyes roamed over Simon’s blood-soaked body, unnerved by his sudden arousal and so disgusted at the same time. Only through his immense power did the man resist taking Crusnik’s place in an effort to fill Simon’s hole.

“We…” Yidian coughed as he tried to find Simon’s voice in the dry throat, “are Simon.”

“I am Abadeer Byron the Inviolable, Second Tetrarch of the Riven Kingdom and Lord High Commander to the Order of Belothemid.”

__________

Simon followed Vale through a vast open field and through a maze of arching rock formations jutting out of the ground. They soon arrived at a small sanctuary where magical creatures had taken refuge. Fae flitted about, strange insects played dissonant songs, and frogs croaked around a small pool of water. The scene was just like something he’d read about in the Tales of Meridiah or other collections of fairy tales, complete with a majestic unicorn drinking from the shallow pool.

The unicorn was dark gray with various spots on its fur and its eyes a deep shade of red. The creature was more unsettling than Simon could ever have guessed, as the horn protruding from its head was more akin to a gnarled root ending in a sharpened point. The creature’s crimson eyes unnervingly tracked Simon as he passed through the makeshift settlement with Vale.

During their walk, Vale had recounted a great deal of the history with which Simon was somewhat familiar, including the first Wizard War. The war had been a direct result of rising powers suddenly having access to magic in the world and using those gifts to terrible purpose. The once verdant lands at the heart of the realm had been scorched and ravished by magic, eventually becoming the Great Mythic Desert, which Simon had traversed on his road to the Bastion. By the end of that initial conflict, many of the elves had left the east to seek new homes. They used ancient portals they had created known as the Hidden Path, which utilized the dream-like reality of Meridiah as a conduit.

The most prominent wizard to rise to power after the first war was Alexandro Breakwhite. Arguably one of the most famous wizards in history, his teachings urged others to use magic with a discipline and a practiced purpose. Breakwhite refused to let history repeat itself and spread his practices far and wide. In his later years, the respected wizard settled in a seaside town that would eventually become the modern city of Breakwhite Bay.

“Breakwhite’s practices of peace may have held,” Vale considered sorrowfully, “If not for the outside influence of Belothemid. His followers still existed and even though his soul was locked away he found a way to communicate through them. The once fractured and obscure religion known as the Order of Belothemid began to grow from a little known cult to a host of fanatical followers. The leader of this movement, the dark wizard Arganon, rose to power within the Vomirian Empire and preached the vile teachings to the masses.”

“Arganon enlisted the help of other creatures: buying goblin armies and appealing to orcs who felt anger about their former homeland being reduced to a lifeless desert. They made their move, cutting a path of war and destruction across the kingdoms to destroy any who wouldn’t join them. The second Wizard War had come, and it was far bloodier and longer fought than the previous conflict. Untold souls were sent to me in that clash and all the gods feared the entire world would fall to darkness and ruin.”

“Those with the strength to resist banded together, forming the basis of the Votu Alliance, which still governs to this day. Their leadership was a Wizard Council with the strength to do what was necessary in a time of war. Their Wizard Commander, Arlo Noxremis, was even a former student of Breakwhite, and a voice of wisdom in such a dark time. Noxremis was against the Alliance’s final move. They had pushed the enemy back to the cold lands of the north, but the majority of the Wizard Council longed to destroy their enemies outright.”

“Using the Heart of the Sun, they had constructed a magical device of untold destruction. When they activated the power, it wiped the entire Vomirian Empire from the face of the earth and in its place a vast crater. The impact of the explosion was so powerful as to rupture the space around the thin veil which separates your world from Meridiah.”

“The crater around the Mirror of Souls,” Simon realized.

“Yes, you’ve seen it,” Vale nodded, “The same crater exists in both realities. The cost of my gift was countless lives and the destabilization of my carefully crafted realm. Magic in human hands was a mistake I live to regret every moment. The other gods and I enacted a plan to end the influence of magic within your world, but we feared the consequences of taking further direct action. We decided Noxremis was a man of conviction and strong moral character. We placed within him a seed that would grow and develop. When the time was right, it would produce a being not beholden to the world of Meridiah and whose power could endure within your world alone.”

“A Seeded One?” Simon wondered with the dawning of terrible realization.

“As the descendants of Noxremis moved west, their bloodline was lost to time and their importance was long forgotten to history. Until at last, you were born, Simon Lorall. A being whose power is harvested from the world around him and the only one who could pass between both worlds to return the gifts of the gods and destroy the Mirror of Souls forever.”

“You…” Simon felt the panic rising in his chest as they had walked, “Expect me to do all that?”

“I expect you will do what you think is right,” Vale considered, “The gods can only ask for your aid. We will not interfere with any decisions you might make in the end. Our fate and the fate of all magic rests in your hands.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Simon asked, “If you wish not to interfere?”

“While we may remain, even after this conflict, the gods wish to see their creation thrive. Our enemy, Belothemid, does not share these same ideals. He already moves to stop you or use you for his own purposes.”

They had walked for some time in silence and Simon processed the wealth of information. He was weighed down by the magnitude of the god’s request. To be in the presence of a god at all was ludicrous. He even felt a sort of petulance at the utter unfairness of being chosen. Would events have unfolded as they had if this seed was not passed to him? Would his parents still be alive? How was this influence from the gods not as dangerous as any other gamble they had made with human lives?

When they had at last arrived in the fae settlement amidst the arching stone structures, Simon was much in need of a distraction. He took in all the sights and even strayed from Vale for a time to explore the beauty. So much of Meridiah was in turmoil, due to the influence of Belothemid. That dark name which now embroiled his own world in chaos. It didn’t matter what the gods had done, the simple fact remained that Belothemid was a threat to everything.

While Simon was admiring a fluffy caterpillar, humming a little tune, as it constructed a cocoon around itself, he sensed Vale approaching.

“I must leave you soon,” Vale spoke, “To return to my neglected duties. But, before I go, I wanted to introduce you to someone.”

“Just like that?” Simon rounded incredulously, “Tell me to collect your magical junk, return it to Meridiah… ‘somehow’ and destroy your damned mirror! And then, you just leave?”

“It is a lot, I admit, and hardly fair,” Vale spoke sympathetically, “But I assure you, the person I wish you to meet has the tools to help you.”

Simon nodded reluctantly and shrugged with an expression conveying: what choice to I have? Vale led him to a squat rectangular door set into a grassy hill covered over in wildflowers. The flowers were waving and dancing as they vibrated with song-like laughter. Vale tapped on the door and waited. Eventually, a large rex rabbit with brown, velvety fur opened the door. The rabbit stood nearly three-quarters the height of Simon while on its hind legs. Over its upper body it wore a dark green waistcoat and reversible lime green and yellow cloak.

“Greetings, my dear Lady,” the rabbit bowed very low to Vale as he spoke.

“Such a pleasure to see you again, Pan,” Vale smiled warmly before gesturing to Simon, “This is Simon Lorall and he has come to be your pupil. Simon, this is Pan Toufle, your new magic teacher. Well, assuming he accepts you as a student.”

“How could I refuse the wishes of her worshipful radiance?” Pan cooed in a smooth voice overflowing with gentility.

“Be warned,” Vale turned back to Simon, “Without your body, your soul cannot function in the other world and over time the incorporeal will break down, leaving you a mindless disembodied spirit. It is paramount that he learns the art of the simulacrum.”

“I see,” Pan eyed Simon skeptically, “Are you prepared to work hard, young man?”

Simon had longed to learn how to better control his magic since the moment he knew it existed within him. Events had taken him down a chaotic road which circumvented his hopes and dreams. He could barely contain the excitement boiling over inside as he answered the rabbit.

“I have never been more ready for anything.”

__________

Connor remained on alert as he crouched naked in the corner of Yidian’s chambers. He had transformed back into a human so they could have a conversation, but he refused to let his guard down. The elegant furnishings, complete with a gigantic four-post bed, all in shades of light blue and silver perfectly accented the solid ice walls of the space. Despite the ice, a fire crackled in the hearth, providing a cozy atmosphere at odds with Connor’s frayed nerves.

“At least remove the residue of your transformation from your skin,” Yidian held out a clean cloth in Simon’s hand. Connor snatched it hastily and kept himself in the corner, at a remove from the demon.

“You have no reason to trust us,” Yidian appreciated, “Especially finding us here, with these people. But we may discover, together, this is what is best for Simon.”

“Since when do you concern yourself with Simon’s wellbeing?” Connor spat as he used the cloth on his skin.

“A new development, to be sure,” Yidian smiled wanly, “But not insincere.”

Yidian paced for a moment, uncertain how to reach the very hairy, naked man before them. They wanted to use the power of the Seeded One and just take what they needed, but Yidian needed an ally, not a servant. When Connor was ready, Yidian provided plain white tunic and gray trousers.

“What do you want with me, demon?” Connor growled after he had dressed himself.

“We have entered into… an agreement with the Order,” Yidian danced around the truth. The magic with which Auren had bound the demon prevented them from revealing that fact to anyone. How the wizard had learned Yidian’s true name also remained a mystery, but a problem too late to solve now.

“I doubt the army I saw encamped here has anything but nefarious plans,” Connor scowled.

“They are preparing to attack the Bastion and overthrow the current Wizard Council. Those events will likely unfold with or without our intervention. Our agreement is regarding Simon and his abilities. Much like Simon himself, we must continue to acquire seed and strengthen this physical form.”

“Which is where I come in,” Connor uttered with disgust, “I want no part in that.”

“May we tell you a story?” Yidian flashed an innocent smile, “Before you decide.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You know we could have simply taken what we wanted?” Yidian hissed incredulously, their patience wearing thin, “Simon cared for you, so we are making an effort to respect that.”

“You need the beast, not the man.”

“In the far North, when the snow fell to depths unimaginable to any who live in these times, many men had to cling to the beast inside. A man, whose name I have forgotten, was charged with escorting his brother and his niece across the frozen tundra. As the snows accumulated, there was no choice but to move and search for less inhospitable lands.”

“They traveled by day and buried beneath the snow by night, clinging to the others for warmth. The fragile little girl between the men. Her teeth chattered endlessly until sleep finally found her. The sleep wasn’t natural, but survival. The body shutting down any unnecessary functions to eek out any last scraps of energy not stolen by the relentless cold.”

“Is there a point to this?” Connor sat again in the corner, feigning disinterest, as the demon continued to pace around the room.

“The man soon realized their supplies would not last,” Yidian continued, “And he also knew he was more important to his niece’s survival. The man’s brother was never his equal when it came to weathering the cold. If only one of them could provide for the girl, it would have to be him. On a particularly windy day, the ice and snow whiting out the entire landscape so that none of them could see more than a few paces in front of them, the girl’s father wandered off and never returned. Or so that’s what he told his niece.”

“He’d go search every day after that for her lost father, but never find him. He was always fortunate enough to find fresh meat though.”

“He was feeding the girl her own father?” Connor recoiled “That’s grotesque!”

“That was where the man met his inner beast. And when his niece eventually succumbed to the cold and froze to death, he ate her too.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this?” Connor grumbled in frustration.

“When the man died too, he found himself in a world of snow and ice. He never escaped that nightmare, just kept on living it. In the Eternal Realm, you get to build your very own torment. We crawled under his skin like shining blue beetles of ice and feasted upon his rotten insides while he felt everything. We were made manifest by his own self-hatred and despair and every day we got to relive his greatest failures.”

“You tortured the man?” Connor spat, “I suppose that’s what demons do though.”

“You don’t understand,” Yidian laughed maniacally up at the ceiling, “We were the man! The pain became what he was, and we were made manifest by his soul. We’d still be there in torment, living the same moments, if not for a demon named Belothemid. We were shown how to embrace what we’d become and harden our cold body into a new being.”

“So, you still follow the will of this Belothemid?” Connor appraised, “I can understand that.”

“We forgot what it really meant to be alive,” Yidian shook Simon’s head, “Existing in pain and suffering to inflict more pain and suffering was still all Belothemid could give us. It was just done with a purpose. Simon gave us life and showed us the power of living again. The joys of the flesh and a celebration of mortal delights. Our will is corrupt and depraved from endless torture, but the memory of what was lost… Simon gave us a glimpse.”

“You really are loyal to Simon?” Connor’s expression softened for the first time.

“We were there as he died, we promised to stay. And if there is a way, we will welcome him back.”

“I guess… for Simon… we might find common ground,” Connor stood hesitantly, viewing the demon in a new light.

“Great!” Yidian smiled too broadly, “Let’s get to the fucking!”