The Lord of Death (The Age of Dawn Book 2) (4 page)

“Yes, it seems something is amiss in the Tower, or all of your pigeons are being eaten by hawks. However for now, I’ll stay with you two, to help you find your friend.” Baylan looked from Walter to Nyset. “I think you will need my guidance, the Tower will most certainly understand.” He smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you Baylan, we sure appreciate your company,” Walter said, grabbing another half-moon shaped pastry.

“I understand you wish to seek your friend in the Tigerian Bluffs,” Malek said. “If what you say is true, that he was indeed taken through a portal, I would caution you that he is probably not well, or more likely dead.”

Walter grunted and started drumming his fingers on the table. “We have to try, anyway.”
I know he is alive, I can feel it.

“Too bad I won’t be going with you,” Grimbald said, working on his third pastry. “I like to travel.”

“It’s alright Grim, we understand that you need to do what you need to do.” Walter said, nodding.

Walter reached under the table and put his hand on Nyset’s knee. She slid her cool hand over his and squeezed it. She cast him a quick smile.

“Are you going to eat that, or just play with it?” Grimbald asked Nyset, his mouth jammed with pastry bits.

Nyset licked the brown paste from her fingers. “Eat it, of course,” she said blinking rapidly.

“You — we should stay here with Malek a bit longer. You need to learn to harness your abilities, and he is one of finest tutors in the realm, despite never swearing allegiance to the Tower,” Baylan said.

Malek glared at Baylan for half a second, and then resumed his generally impassive face. “Teaching pupils is always a pleasure, one I get very rarely in these times. It seems with each passing generation, less people can touch the god essences.”

“No, this can’t wait, Juzo can’t wait.” Walter said.

“Walt,” she squeezed his hand again. “Look at how far we’ve come in such a short time. Don’t you see how valuable this training has been? I mean, do you really think we’ll find him?”

He stared into his hands, eyes lingering on his gleaming bracer, Stormcaller. The memory of the terror on Juzo’s face as he was lifted into the air flashed into his mind. Walter banged his fist against the table, rattling mugs. “Fuck, alright. Three more days and that’s about all I can handle.”

“That seems a bit more reasonable,” Malek said. “You won’t regret it. I have much I can teach you,” he said, rubbing his goatee. “The Tigerian Bluffs… did you say the man had a mask and a staff that resembled a snake?”

No. I never told you that, but clearly you know him, or know of the bastard.
“Yeah, it happened so fast, but yes. I wouldn’t forget that bastard if I saw him.” Walter clamped down on the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from saying more.
Always say less than necessary, Dad always said. Bide your time.

“There is a powerful wizard who dwells in the Tigerian Bluffs, a Necromancer who meets your description. He is an evil you don’t want to encounter.”

“What the Phoenix is a Necromancer?” asked Walter.
That confirms Nyset’s idea from the book I found in Juzo’s bag.

“I’ll have to defer to Baylan,” Malek said, gesturing towards him and rubbing at his throat.
He either doesn’t know, or doesn’t like this line of conversation.

“Ah, Necromancy, a terrible form of magic, a terrible evil. Necromancers can commune with the essence of death itself. A Necromancer is a wizard, much like me and you.” Baylan cleared his throat and took a swig of elixir. “A wizard who can raise the dead and speak with angry souls. They draw power by consuming the souls of the living, killing not only their bodies, but destroying their souls. They do not touch the Phoenix or the Dragon.”

The room fell silent.

“Wow, that’s fascinating,” Nyset said, wrinkling her nose.

“Even a wizard can fall by an axe blade,” Grimbald chuckled. “This elixir is excellent Malek,” he bellowed at the wide eyed man.

“That, that is what you could be dealing with,” Malek said, collecting himself. “Assuming you manage to find your friend, and hopefully not the Necromancer, the Tigerian Bluffs are a maze of plateaus, each strikingly similar.”

“Ny, you’ve always wanted to see the east. And Baylan, we would be so close to the Tower we could go there after. I suppose you’ll still be in training then, eh Grim?”

“Aye,” he replied, popping another pastry into his maw.

“Alright, just the three of us then. Adventure!” Walter said, rubbing his hands together. “There’s something else we need to discuss, Baylan. The Phoenix and the Dragon—we’ve been practicing, using our respective abilities—but I really need to get a better understanding of how they work. What can you guys tell me about them?”

Nyset looked at Walter and nodded eagerly, “Good question Walt.” She looked from Baylan to Malek, who looked at each other.

“Magics,” Grimbald muttered to himself.

“Well don’t be shy,” Malek said, gesturing towards Baylan, green light reflecting through an emerald in one of his many rings.

“Alright, I suppose now is a good time, given that you had a chance to practice with Malek and get a feel for your new limbs, as it were. By now you’ve probably realized, it’s much like using a muscle that you never developed, and now you’re able to flex it at will,” Baylan said. Walter lightly drummed his fingers on a small pile of crumbs and Nyset scratched at her chin and looked up.

“Being blessed with the ability to use the Phoenix or Dragon power is hereditary, as far as we know. In ancient times, men who could use the powers and were the first to visualize their forms, and had constructed the idea of the Phoenix and Dragon being gods. They’re not really gods, or mythical beings but an aberration some men possess, I think,” Baylan paused, taking a sip of elixir.

“Wait—you said it was hereditary. My parents can’t do anything like that— and they knew I could. They even brought me to the forest to practice at night, so no one would see me,” Nyset said, light brown skin becoming gradients of white. “It makes sense now. I have blonde hair, and they have black. I don’t even look like them. I must not be —” She paused and looked into her lap as a single tear fell into it. Walter reached over and rubbed her neck. “It’s okay, sorry. It’s okay, go on,” she said with a sniffle.

“Hey, don’t jump to conclusions here, even if you found out they weren’t your natural parents, they were most certainly your parents, people who loved you and cared for you,” Grimbald said. “My Pa’s not my real Dad, never met ‘em. But my Pa is my Pa.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, and they are great people. Please Baylan, go on… I shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”

Baylan watched Nyset for a second. “Generally only men are blessed with the power of the Phoenix. There are, of course, exceptions to every common rule. It is most notable for its ability to allow the user to self-heal, and, with more advanced development, mend the wounds of others. Walter, I’m sure you know how this works at this point.” Walter nodded, wincing with the memory.

“It’s healing power, however, is limited to minor and somewhat severe wounds. If you were to say, lose a limb, well we have yet to have a documented example of anyone being able to regrow that limb. However, cuts, burns, puncture wounds, broken bones, disease, and the like are typically able to be mended by the Phoenix power.”

“It truly is incredible,” Walter said to no one in particular. “I remember the first time it happened, when it first healed me. It was when the two Black Wynches ambushed Nyset and me… and one of them ran me through with its fucking claws. It was like something awoke inside of me, like —”
The Dragon did,
he thought, catching himself.
“It reminds me of the first time I learned how to spin kick at someone’s head. Once I figured out what to do, it just became part of me.”

“That is the experience most people have,” Baylan said.

“Is there any way for Phoenix power to stop pain?” Walter asked, vividly remembering how it felt to be stabbed four times at once by each tine of the Black Wynch’s claw.

“There is, through shields, but not at the wound site itself, unfortunately. Phoenix shields require a lot of concentration. Using them will leave you feeling quite drained, but they are effective.”

“I still haven’t figured out how to do that yet, what exactly can they stop? I saw you use one against the Cerumal back at the cannibal Mar’s camp… so we can stop swords, but what else?” Walter asked, scratching his head as he pondered the question.

“Anything physical will be prevented from passing through a Phoenix shield, however it does nothing to mute the impact of the blow. The blade may not cut your head off, but its force can still knock you over. Like anything, the more you use it the easier it gets. They can be used to stop Dragon attacks also, but that is a much more advanced skill, one that took me years to get a handle on,” Baylan said, regarding Walter with his wise eyes.

“Hm,” Walter said, pressing his chin on his hands in deep concentration.

“Don’t worry, when we have some extra time I’ll teach you how to create shields,” Baylan said, smiling.

That would be a very useful skill, don’t forget to remind him,
Walter thought.

“And the Dragon?” Nyset asked, leaning forward in her chair and craning her neck.

“We both know little, I think, but I’ll have to defer to Malek for this one, he can probably tell you more,” Baylan said, folding his hands. “If Lillian were still here…” He squinted his eyes and his lips trembled.

“I know she was very important to you— she saved countless lives and we will never forget her,” Nyset said, putting a hand on Baylan’s shoulder. Baylan nodded and took a deep breath.

Malek cut a large chunk of butter from a plate and stirred it into his elixir, making the spoon tinkle against the mug.

“Good idea,” Grimbald said, dropping a hunk of butter into his elixir mug.

Malek cleared his throat. “I suppose a formal discussion is in order, after all the training we’ve done with your natural talents. The god’s powers are quite complex, and we’ve barely scratched the surface in our training together,” Malek said. He took a sip of his elixir and licked the sheen of melted butter on his lips.

“The Dragon is the chaos in the eye of the storm, the mouth of the volcano, the rage one feels towards a cheating lover. The Phoenix is a warm breeze at the end of a summer night, the currents of the Abyssal Sea caressing your toes, a warm bed after slaving in the laboratory,” Malek said with a sigh.

“Never thought you for the poetic type,” Walter said with a grin.

Malek’s cheeks reddened. He raised his large mug to his face and took another sip, looking at the ceiling.
A knock to his literary prowess and the man loses his composure. Apparently even wizards have feelings.
Walter couldn’t help but allow the beginnings of a smile to touch his lips at finding this flaw in his armor.

“The power of the Dragon is manifested in the four principal elements. Fire, wind, stone, and lightning, in increasing order of difficulty to manifest. This is why I’ve started you with fire, Nyset. Were you aware of the other elements?”

Nyset shook her head, “No, well not really. I thought there was something else I could feel, but I wasn’t really sure what to do with it.”

“Sadly, as a man I can only teach you what I’ve learned from books, which is very little. If you eventually find your way to the tower, you’ll have to work with the women there.”

“Baylan, we’re going to go to the Tower, right? You’ll take me? Take us?” Nyset fired the questions at him rapidly.

“We will certainly make our way there in time.”

“For manifesting flames,” Malek began. “The fire of the Dragon can be woven into any shape your mind can conceive. You’ll most often find yourself manifesting the flames of the Dragon in the shapes and forms that come most naturally to your mind’s eye. For you, that was darts. I’ve had you working on discs to teach you that you can create bigger shapes, which you’ve probably felt comes with an associated energy cost,” Malek said.

“You’re right. I didn’t realize it until you mentioned it. The first two days we had practiced using the flame discs, I couldn’t figure out why I felt so tired. I attributed it to sleeping someplace new, living in the city for the first time, but that explanation makes a lot more sense.”

“Get more comfortable with those, then move on to larger structures. Unfortunately, regarding the other elements, I am unable to help you. There isn’t much written about the god’s powers, for good reason. The Tower likes to keep its strength close to the chest,” Malek said, casting a glance at Baylan, who rolled his eyes.

“You three should go explore Midgaard today, since you haven’t really had a chance yet. Malek and I have some catching up to do,” Baylan said.

“Yes! There are so many interesting foods I want to try,” Grimbald said, biting his fingers.

Walter chuckled. “Alright then, have fun, we sure will.”

J
uzo stared
up at the cobwebs and strings of dust that hung from the ceiling of his room.

“Place is fucking filthy, looks the part at least,” he snickered.
Life essence, feed me,
the relentless voice of the black steel sword, Blackout, whispered in his head. The voice was stronger in such close proximity to Juzo.

He rose from his cot, littered with dried bloodstains and paced around the room.
Come. To me,
Blackout’s
ethereal voice commands.
No, this is not a room. This is a prison cell.
He let out a low growl.

Juzo stood on his cot and grabbed the stone bars covering his window, hoisting himself up to see out. White moonlight lit the towering plateaus around the valley and cast others in deep shadow.
I am your hand,
Blackout whispered.

“Stop, stop stop!” Juzo shouted, covering his ears.
Blood. Spirits. Souls.

“
Let me out!” he screamed. He ran to the door and bashed it with his shoulder. A normal door would’ve had the hinges torn from the frame with such a blow. This stony door was immovable, laughing at his pathetic attempt.

“Yeah, you think that’s funny, do you? Oh yes, very funny.” He scowled at the door.
Come master, come,
Blackout said.
Juzo planted his feet and drove his fist into the door. It bounced off and he screamed, clutching his trembling hand. The flesh that normally covered the bone on his knuckles was gone and two of the knuckles were disfigured, positioned in the wrong spot. “Fucking Dragon forged door,” he moaned.

The eyeless mask of Terar glided into view behind the door’s slot. “What is your name?” he hissed.

Uglyfuck.

“My name is Law, master. I am Law.”

“Good. A few more days in here will help you remember it.”

“Yes, master.” The slot closed.

Juzo leaned his back against the door, and slid to the ground.
Why me? Why am I in this fucking nightmare?
He started licking the blood that oozed from around his exposed bones. It was intoxicating, nourishing, and awful all at once.
What fuels my strength rots my soul. Just have to get Blackout back and then, and then I’ll eat his guts and piss on his burning body.

Feast. Eat. Bloods, we need,
Blackout whispered.

In time,
he responded to the sword.

In time,
it echoed back.

“This isn’t real,” he whispered, staring into the moon ray that cut across his face.

Oh no, but it is,
the sword replied.

G
rimbald dabbed
a cloth in clear oil and massaged it into his treasured weapon. He was lost in the task, face relaxed and a slight smile touched his face. Walter watched him out of the corner of his eye, slabs of veiny muscle carefully wiping oil along the double-sided axe head.

What I would give for that serenity, to get lost in a task again and forget the past’s horrors.
Walter rubbed Wiggles, who sat dutifully by his side.

They were back on the Temple of Meditation’s roof for Malek’s next lesson. The sun shone with renewed intensity, as if it too had its morning elixir.

“The training will be severe,” Malek had said. Walter already felt a deep exhaustion, tempting him to close his eyes, just to rest them for a moment of course. The elixir wasn’t strong enough to combat the wariness one felt after wielding the power of the Phoenix.
Dad knew how to make it good and strong.
Sleep was like a black smith’s anvil crushing his brain, trying to force his eyes shut.

Nyset laughed and Walter’s eyes snapped open. Malek touched her lower back as he guided her into a new position, waving with his other hand. Walter sat up in his chair and quickly pushed hair from his eyes. Malek caught Walter’s eye and his smile widened. Malek brushed his hand along her back and rested it in on her shoulders. Nyset seemed to have paid no heed to the gesture. Malek leaned into her ear and whispered. She laughed crisply and punched him on the shoulder. Walter felt his face burning, warmth tickling the backs of his ears.

“Walter?” Grimbald said.

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill.” Walter’s eyes narrowed, boring a hole into Malek. Grimbald rubbed his face and put a hand on Walter’s shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” he breathed. The color returned to his face and he relaxed his hands.
It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter.

“Remember, use your body to move the projectiles. The body and the mind are one, never forget it.” Malek said, deep voice carrying.

“You can do it, you have it!” Walter shouted from his chair.

Nyset nodded and wiped her brow. Malek threw a plate in the air, but it defied gravity. It zipped up, down, and then spun through the air like a vortex. Malek’s mouth formed a hard line and his eyes tracked the plate. Nyset’s first flaming disc went wide while the second was a bit closer, cutting through the air, leaving trails of smoke. Nyset raked her arm across her chest and the third disc curved in the air, cutting a narrow arc and landing in the roof’s low stone wall. The disc sizzled for a moment and vanished.

“She’s doing it,” Walter said.

“Get that little bastard,” Grimbald cheered.

“Argh!” she barked, crossing her clawed hands before her. Two burning discs intersected in tight arcs, slicing the plates into pieces.

“Hah! That’s it, you did it,” Malek clapped and hugged her. “Good thing too, we’re out of dinnerware.” Walter growled under his breath.

She pushed away from Malek and set her sights on Walter. Her light eyes sparkled and she grinned widely. Her smile blew away the anger and he met her gorgeous eyes. She strode to him, hips swaying and drawing his attention. He embraced her and put his hands on her hips.

“You’re amazing, even with all that stinking sweat,” he smiled.

“I need a nap. I feel like I haven’t slept in days,” she said, taking a deep breath.

Malek swept away the last of the plate fragments and scratched at his goatee. “What else do we need to cover? Walter, we reviewed basic wound healing and telekinesis. Nyset, we reviewed targeting, flame arrow and flame discs. Unfortunately, my understanding of the Dragon only goes as far as tomes and observations.”

Grimbald took advantage of the empty space and started practicing with his axe. He took wide and vicious swings at his imaginary targets. Walter knew he never wanted to be on the receiving end those chops.
I’m glad he’s on our side. I wonder —

“Now,” Malek interrupted Walter’s thoughts. “You must learn to become adaptive, not just resilient or robust. Even the most flexible tree and strongest stone can break under enough stress. You have to adapt to the stress and become more powerful, more adaptive. Be like water, flowing around the petty obstacles you encounter and a tidal wave against your enemies, dissolving into air to fight another day.”

“Like water!” Grimbald growled as he swung. “Like a frozen axe! Hah!”

Malek glanced over his shoulder at Grimbald and sighed. “There’s no hope for that one,” he whispered. Malek looked from Walter to Nyset, seemingly waiting for a response. “Right,” Malek crossed his arms when there was none. “Let’s put it all together. Remember, you must work as a team to wield your different powers and abilities for maximum effect.”

“You need a haircut!” Grimbald yelled with an axe swing.

You need a haircut?
Walter chuckled.

“Yes, you said the Dragon and Phoenix are complimentary, each enhancing the other when used together.”

“Very good, Nyset,” Malek nodded. “At least one of you has been listening to me. Prepare yourselves,” he said sharply.

Malek turned away from them, looking towards Grimbald. He spread his arms wide, one up and the other down in a sinuous shape. A ring of blue fire suddenly scorched the roof beside Grimbald. He leaped away from the flames, gaping at the ring and then to Walter and Nyset. He raised his weapon defensively across his body. A strange human-like figure materialized behind the circular column of flame and Walter jerked his head back, breath catching.

“What is this Malek?” Nyset asked slowly. Walter looked where Malek had been and found him missing. He scanned the roof. Gone. Wiggles barked and ran to the edge of the roof, ears pressed back. The burning column dissipated, leaving hot air and a smoldering, black ring around an armored figure.

“Dragon!” Walter blurted, taking a step back.
That bastard. No, this is just a test, right?

It had all the trappings of a man, except the mouth was all wrong. Its lips split in four directions, revealing an empty cavern where teeth should have been. Its armor was a deep gold color, long waving plates overlapping and jutting from its elbows, knees, and shoulders in sharp angles. It had two massive horns emerging from its helm that spanned the width of its shoulders. Cut into its rounded, smooth helm were two large black ovals, presumably where its eyes might be. In each hand was a sword. One almost the length of its body and curved; the other short and straight.

The creature snapped its blades across its body, resting on either side. Walter’s muscles tensed and he fought to summon Stormcaller, the tails of the Dragon, to break this monster.
Malek can’t know, this must be a test.
It stood motionless except for its head, which seemed to be measuring them one by one. Its mouth flared in all directions, wildly sucking air.

It stood mere feet from Grimbald. Beads of sweat poured from his brow. His knuckles were white against the axe haft and his arms vibrated with tremors. The creature slowly turned its face toward Grimbald, inhaling and exhaling with increased intensity, as if it wasn’t getting enough air. In that moment, all was quiet except for the beast’s breath.

Walter inhaled deeply, allowing the air from the warm breeze to coat his throat and lungs. He heard Nyset’s foot scrape against the wood beside him as she prepared herself for embracing the Dragon. A drop of sweat rolled from his brow and hit the ground, echoing like a thunderclap. The creature didn’t just wield swords, no its hands
were
the menacing blades. The longest blade had letters engraved along its edge, much like the letters covering Malek’s robes and quarters. The creature’s hard pulls of air painfully hissed in Walter’s head. He saw the plate under its bicep shift ever so slightly.
It strikes.

“Grim!” Walter shouted, thrusting his hand fruitlessly. Grimbald blocked the wicked slash of its long sword with the axe’s head, a clang splitting the air. The force of the blow threw Grim off balance, and the warrior followed with a stab of its short sword, sliding through Grimbald’s shoulder. Grimbald screamed in pain and the beast swung again from overhead with its long sword. A glowing shield materialized in the air before Grimbald’s face and the attack was repelled, sending its arm bouncing back.

It turned towards Walter, all four lips flaring in an exasperated hiss. Grimbald swung from overhead with his axe and the creature rolled forward, avoiding the blow and sprinting towards Walter.

“Shit!” Walter breathed. He pushed with both hands and the creature slowed as if moving through water. Two burning discs sliced through the air, winding towards the golden armored creature. It raised its swords and struck the discs from the air, sending them spinning and smoking into the sky.

“Impossible,” Walter said.
Not regular swords.

“I’m spent!” Nyset gasped, hands resting on her knees, her face pale. She stumbled to the low wall along the roof’s edge and put a hand on it to hold herself up. “The training, too much.”

Walter risked sparing her a glance.
No, no, not now.
His concentration wavered and in a blur of movement the beast slammed into him, blowing the air from his lungs. His eyes watered and he couldn’t see clearly for what felt like forever. The beast’s horns and blades pierced the stone on either side of his torso, narrowly missing him and pinning him against the roof entry way’s wall.
Lady luck is on my side today.

Grimbald roared from behind the creature and swung his axe, shining mirror bright. The warrior withdrew its short sword hand in time, twisting its body to Grimbald, but its parry was off. Grimbald’s axe tore through its beautiful armor and half way into its arm.

“That’s for my arm, you bastard!”

It shrieked and yanked its horns and other arm free from around Walter. Grimbald withdrew his axe from its half-cleaved arm and started to swing again. Black blood gushed from the wound and its arm flopped uselessly above the elbow. Its short sword hand clanked against its armor as it pivoted to face Grimbald.

It sent a gut-penetrating front kick squarely into Grimbald mid-swing. He fell to his knees and his axe chopped into the roof, wide of its target. Grim was gasping for air. Time crawled and the creature raised his long sword over Grimbald, lips sputtering and spittle flying.

No choice.
Walter let his eyes droop and he saw the Dragon before his vision, lurking, waiting for his touch. He did and his body filled with vigor and the pressing urge to destroy. Walter swung and, in mid-flight, Stormcaller’s amber tendrils materialized, sparking and burning. They snapped around the creature’s arm.
It should’ve taken that arm off.
It pulled hard against Stormcaller when it tried to finish Grimbald, lurching Walter towards it. He used the momentum and created a Phoenix shield around his shoulder. He rammed the creature in the back, sending it reeling.

Walter slashed diagonally with Stormcaller again and again, leaving sizzling burns on the beast’s back plate.
Armor intact
. He struck again from overhead as it recovered, creating more black lines in the golden metal. It swung its vicious blade and Walter jumped, but not far enough. The blade cut horizontally across his chest, tearing through muscle and gouging bone. Walter winced, ducking the next cut. He sprung forward from the low position, bashing its knee with his shoulder, sending it rolling to ground.