Monday, January 18, 2010

Chapter Twenty-Two, 'Flame and Steel'

"Alright here golem, the lass wants the tower taken. I be planing to do it; you coming or not?"
Scorch turned left to face Nond. The golem was gone. He checked right and then looked to the tower. There was a burst of red from each side of the door. The golem hadn't even waited for him.

"Ain't you lot supposed to wait a magicians orders?"
"I am not a mere golem. Your father knew that, did he not tell you?"
"Didn't like my father; he spent all his time wandering around with you and your little band of geezers."
"I regret his death, as I do all my companions."

Scorch placed his staff against the door, muttering obscenities against his companion.
"And the lass wonders why I don't like to travel with you. I suppose them all dying over the last decade is purely coincidence?"
"Fate, the body can last only so long."
"He wasn't even into a second century. My grandfather I understood."

The guard inside lept out of the way as the door crashed into the far wall. Nond ducked through the doorway and silenced him. Scorch incinerated the maidservant accompanying him.

"Your father was a man. I blame myself for not warning him."
"He was drowned golem. A sober man, who could swim, doesn't die in a meter deep pool by accident."
"Water and fire do not mix, young scorch. It was the corruption of water that took him. I should have foreseen it; he should have been warned."
"Are you blaming those imaginary creatures of yours for my father's death? For the last time; there are no such things as..."

There was magic in the high chamber of the tower. Not just the lingering feel of spent life and spilled blood as a warlock's tower customarily bore, but an enchantment of binding. There were no cages, nor chains. But what had silenced the pyromancer was not the enchantment; it was the small thunderstorm and furious winds raging in the rafters.

"If there are no sprites; how has the force of nature been bound here?"
"It be an enchantment of course. It just looks like a storm, and their be little tendrils of magic moving the paper and stealing my hat."
"Are you certain you believe that, young Scorch?"
"As sure as me Dad's a virgin."

"Who dares the tower? More messengers from the warlock seeking my wrath? You shall have it!"
The wind howled louder, and a bolt of lightning narrowly missed Scorch.
"In case you be wonderin golem; me mother had me in the usual manner."
"I know, your father was quite proud of himself."
"If you weren't so big and hard I'd kick you."

"I will silence you wretches, the air at my command shall no more fuel your banter."
Scorch collapsed, gasping for breath. Nond was not so encumbered; he stretched his hand towards the cloud and spoke.
"Sprite, You are neither wisp nor naiad. Nor are you servant to the warlock. We come to seek his demise."
"Lies! False words of the mortal taint, I shall remove your name from the pages of time."
"You will find it not. I am Nond, the iron sage of Gasca; I seek to restore the power of the wisp Cavel to those who shall use it in wisdom and peace."

The wind stilled, and the storm subsided. In their place was a young woman made of swirling water, with golden strands of dust for hair, and garbed in a veil of shadowy mist.
"You know of my father?"
"I counted him amongst my friends, as I do the young pyromancer you are strangling."
Scorch began breathing more evenly as the air began to refill his lungs.
"I'm sorry, I thought you were with him. I'm so sorry sir; are you okay?"
"By Kevan's neatly trimmed mustache, you're real!"

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