Mark of the Fool

The west was growing brighter as trees swayed in the hot wind.

Screeching birds fled the woods; and below them, beasts scattered, rushing through the Fields of Cormac, crying out in fear.

The smell of smoke was stronger, and in the distance, clouds evaporated.

“By the Traveller,” Theresa whispered, turning and quickly kissing Alex. Desperately.

The huntress pulled away, taking his face in her hands, locking their eyes. “Be careful.”

“I will.” He promised, hugging her then turning to the others. “Hart, Bjorgrund, Birger, Brutus. Let’s go, I’ll take you to Welling. Cedric, Drestra, Merzhin, Isolde, Khalik, Thundar: I want you to start casting every defensive spell and miracle you can.”

“Understood,” Prince Khalik said. “Let us prepare! I don’t want to see any of us fall now. This is just the beginning.”

The spellcasters began their conjuring while those going to Welling gathered around Alex.

“We’re ready,” Hart said.

Alex nodded, his four companions touched his shoulders and in a blink, he’d teleported them to Welling, and was back.

“—fire spells will likely not be effective,” Isolde was saying as she sheathed herself in greater force armour. “Focus on spells that reach a wider area, and anything that can disrupt those clouds.”

“I have a few ideas.” Drestra spotted Alex. “Welcome back. It won’t be long.”

The clouds of fire were growing closer by the heartbeat, flames spreading through the trees.

“Asmaldestre, how much time do we have?” the young archwizard asked.

“Less than a minute.” The war-spirit’s words struck like a whip.

“Alright, then.” Alex took a deep breath.

The world slowed.

Individual streams of consciousness focused attention on each limb and his face.

His countenance cast Control Weather; the spell would take time to activate.

His left arm began summoning elder air elementals while his right conjured elder water elementals. His left leg cast elder ice elementals and his right cast flight magic on himself and his companions.

Lastly, he used his staff to channel haste magic.

When the world sped up again, elder elementals poured from portals by the dozen, while haste and flight magics infused his companions and summoned creatures.

The sky seemed ablaze, the west grew bright enough to sting the eye.

Heat saturated the air.

Soon, the horde of conjured elder elementals surrounded him, and within himself, a stream of consciousness focused on mana regeneration and another conjured swarms of Elemental Beetles.

“Fire elemental beetles?” Thundar asked. “Why not water or ice?”

“Fire elementals should be immune to the enemy’s flame,” Alex said as the swarms spread out, surrounding each companion and summoned monster. “They’re going to attack anything that tries getting near us. Hopefully, that should keep those fire-swarms off of us. But be careful, even though Orb of Air will protect our lungs from heat and smoke, the enemy’s giving off such a massive amount of heat that if we get caught in one of those clouds, we’ll be ash.”

“Not me.” Drestra transformed to her true form. “I can attack them from the inside.”

Thundar touched her scaled leg as illusionary duplicates appeared around him.

“We will all get through this together,” Isolde said.

“Aye, that we will,” Cedric moved closer to her.

“Yeah…” Alex whispered.

Dread gnawed at him.

The Ravener had struck first, he wondered about other areas of Thameland. What was going on there? What had the Ravener unleashed in other parts of the kingdom while its clouds of fire raced for him and his companions. He’d sent his mercenaries from the Whetstone Tavern out across the realm, but he had no way of knowing what they could be facing.

‘Hannah,’ he thought. ‘Give us strength. Give us power. Protect us. Help us all get through this.’

Warmth emanated from her power, stirring in his soul.

She was listening.

Whether she was strong enough to make a tangible difference yet, he didn’t know, but he knew she was listening.

It was up to the living to makethatdifference right now.

“Alright, everyone to the north!” he called. “Let’s keep those swarms focused on Drestra and me, and away from Welling! Let’s go!”

As one, the group took to the air, racing to the north. Hot wind whipped across their force armour.

Above, the burning clouds emerged from over the forest. The night had turned to day as the trees burned, flames racing through the Fields of Cormac.

“Generaaaal…” the clouds spoke in the crackle of flames.

They raced after the companions.

“It’s working!” Thundar called. “They’re following us, but…” The minotaur threw a quick glance over his shoulder. “But Alex, they’re a hell of a lot faster than we are!”

“Generaaaaaal!” the clouds screamed. A blast of heat slammed into them, sweat beaded on Alex’s skin.

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“Nope!” Thundar shouted. “Don’t like that one bit!”

“They…are…gaining on us…father…”

“Spread out!” Alex called; his facial muscles were still casting Control Weather. “They’re faster than we are, but we can teleport! Drestra, the two of us are going higher, we’ll take them with us. Everyone else, attack from below! Watch yourselves! I want everyone coming through this alive! Merzhin, move the barrier. Tell me when it’s done.”

“Of course,” the Saint said.

“Understood!” Khalik said. “To battle!”

“To slaughter.” Asmaldestre hissed.

“To the death,” Alex said, touching Drestra’s scaled leg.

The two Heroes teleported higher, then began flying straight up.

For an instant, the fiery clouds paused in mid-air.

“They’re like little imps of fire!” Drestra shouted, her dragon-eyes focused on the blazing spawn.

“General…Usurper!” the fire clouds hissed, shooting after them at terrifying speed.

Alex was pouring sweat from the rising heat, but heat wasn’t the only thing rising.

The young archwizard’s mana poured out. Clouds—that had been burned away from the merciless heat—now gathered above him, manifesting from his magics.

Cool winds flowed from the sky, meeting the swarms’ fiery heat.

“Alright, Control Weather’s starting to work,” he said. “Let’s make our stand.”

“Time to die, Ravener-spawn!” Drestra’s voice thundered through the air.

The dragon’s wings snapped open, halting her ascension as her limbs cast a powerful spell, her body cast another and her lips a third. Powerful mana filled the air, even catching Alex off-guard. Wind rose, swirling around the dragon. “Can you keep them busy for a bit?” she shouted.

“Gladly!” Alex turned, facing the swarm.

They did not falter, racing for the usurper and General.

Alex conjured a Wizard’s Hand and tossed his staff to it.

The world slowed as he raised his arms.

Streams of consciousness focused on his limbs and motions, casting five spells at once.

His right hand shone with ectoplasmic energy. Deadly cold gathered around his left. Beside his left leg, a blot of acid formed, while an orb of force magic formed before his right one.

The air in front of his chest shimmered.

Streams of consciousness focused on the spells.

And the world sped up again.

Heat blasted the young archwizard as the fiery swarms surged for him.

They were too late.

Mana rushed from his pool, unleashing a storm of wizardry on them.

Heat fled from his left hand, steam billowed, a cone of blue-white magic roared from his palm, bringing howling, devastating winds to bear. From his right, a hungry cone of ectoplasmic echoes were unleashed. Acid streamed through the air, trailing a flurry of force missiles from his legs.

Cone of Ice. Phantom Blast. Acid Spray. Battering Force Blast.

All were unleashed at once, blindsiding the swarms.

Flames hissed, retreating. Spells melted Ravener-spawn, the miniscule creatures screaming as icy winds froze them in place, extinguishing flames. Ectoplasmic echoes—a horde of screaming spirits—drank fires, leaving only death, while force missiles detonated, sending shockwaves through the swarm, devastating the fire clouds.

Their numbers fell, but Alex wasn’t done.

Magic shimmering before him exploded, announcing a seventh-tier spell: Waves of Weariness struck thousands of tiny spawn in a wave, syphoning fortitude and vitality, draining their strength.

Their light faded to a sickly grey.

Speed failed, tiny creatures drifted listlessly, like dying leaves.

Alex waited, ready for more to come at him…but his spells had done their work, the devastated swarm paused.

“Alex, move!” Drestra shouted.

The young archwizard teleported away, hovering beside the dragon.

A towering whirlwind—by far the largest tornado she’d ever conjured—spun near her, not filled with flame, but steaming acid, bubbling inside.

Within the cyclone’s eye was a singular point of light. Acid orbited that point of light too, seemingly being drawn to it. Even from his distance, the young archwizard felt the radiance pulling him, seeking to drag him near.

With a roar, Drestra launched her violent winds at the stilled cloud of flames, dragging the Ravener-spawn inside. Acid hissed, greeting the creatures. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands of tiny spawn were swept up by the howling wind.

And Alex understood the true power of that point of light.

It flared, and clusters of spawn also understood its true power as they were dragged into the whirlwind. Millions of tiny sparking lights boiled in acid, and were extinguished like miniature suns. A deadly swath was carved through the clouds of fire.

Alex did not hesitate to follow up.

Flying forward, straight for the reeling clouds, he stopped near them, and cast five spells at once.

All five were Cone of Ice.

Fresh blasts of freezing wind devastated more Ravener-spawn, snuffing their fires out, but he still wasn’t finished with them. Conjuring an eighth-tier spell: Mass Control Corpse with a single word—a word he’d longed to say—he released the spell: “Rise.”

Dying Ravener-spawn stopped mid-fall, their light flaring again, then taking a sickly hue, as Alex puppetted them to their kin: dead, fiery Ravener-spawn attacked the creatures of living flame.

Even as Alex and Drestra’s assault struck at the enemy from above, their companions attacked from below.

Claygon fired his beams, explosions hit the swarms. Shockwaves ripped through them, the golem’s blazing light snuffing out theirs.

The prince of Tekezash andThundar cut the creatures down with force explosions, while Isolde electrocuted them with streams of lightning and rain.

Beams of holy light lanced from Cedric’s hand and weapon, killing hundreds.

Summoned elementals dove into the swarm. Water elementals hissed, steaming as they bubbled within the fires, ice elementals crackled, striking all around them, freezing anything they touched. Air elementals whirled through the clouds, striking with lightning, inhaling flame as they went.

Then, there was Asmaldestre.

Leaping in—fire licking at her body—she rampaged through the swarm. Every miniature Ravener-spawn that touched her skin, split apart as though struck by honed blades.

The war-spirit swept Uldar’s weapons and her tail-blade through them, chopping the small creatures with precision with every swing, her movements like shadows, even to Alex’s eyes.

Her ranged weapons cracked, projectiles exploding great waves of death through the swarms.

Pressed on two sides, these mighty Ravener-spawn…could do little.

Gone was their headlong rush and hungry calls for the General, for usurpers.

Now they screamed, and in their voices, Alex heard their anguish and resentment.

They were not prepared for the terrible might that Thameland’s Heroes and their companions had gained.

And the worst was yet to come.

“Alex!” Merzhin’s voice called from beneath the swarm. “I’ve moved the barrier and I blessed the water!”

“Right on time!” The young archwizard’s eyes turned to the dark clouds above them; they had returned with a vengeance from the Ravener-spawn’s drying flames. Alex would give them that vengeance.

He turned to the east—to the sea—pointing at it. “Drive them into the ocean.”

His command soared to the heavens.

And the heavens replied.

The wind rose.

Gusting.

Then galeforce.

Hurricane winds roared in next, sweeping the Ravener-spawn where they wanted.

Uncounted voices cried out, the word dying in the wind: “maste…” they screamed, trying to brace themselves in the air…though no cloud could withstand such winds. These fire clouds were no exception. Shrieking, clouds of flame were driven from the shore—pushed along by Alex and Drestra’s magics—sweeping them above the sea.

The swarms struggled, gripped by the wind, having no hope.

Together, Alex and Drestra pointed downward.

As one, the winds drove the swarms into the sea.

There came an ear-shattering shriek.

Spawn struggled, trying to break free. All around them, the ocean boiled, keeping them captive, smothering their lights all the same. Dimming fires floundered beneath the surface, lights faded and sparks died.

Soon, an unnatural daylight had turned to evening.

Darkness fell once more.

All that remained of the clouds of fire was a boiling sea and rising steam.

“Holy shit…” Alex muttered. “We did it. Without…without that much trouble.”

“They were strong,” Drestra’s voice crackled, pride filling it. “But we were stronger. We have become much stronger. Very much stronger.”

Alex clenched his fists. “Yes, we have grown in power, haven’t we?”

“That’s right. In one single stroke, we finished this battle against old and powerful monsters that the Ravener had used to cull our people in ancient times,” she added. “The same ones you saw in your vision in the dungeon core.”

“Oh no, you’re wrong.” Alex turned to the swath of burned landscape leading west. “This battle’s not over, notyet.”

He looked at the trail of blackened forest and earth. A trail showing the path the swarm had taken.

“Not by a long shot,” he whispered. “Let’s gather everyone. I want to pull this thread and see where it leads.”

Silence reigned in the Ravener’s cavern. “Impossible,” the construct whispered.

The corpse of its creator looked down with lifeless eyes.

That stirring within the Ravener grew stronger.