chapter 29
previous chapter
Far above the Spire, the clouds were churning. They had turned pure black, and were swirling for miles around like water going down the drainhole of an great big bathtub in the sky. Every few seconds, lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled ominously. The overall effect was eerie and appropriately apocalyptic.
Deep within the fortress, the rectangular stone shuddered wildly. All around it, magic had reached saturation point, and it was twisting the fabric of reality into really odd patterns. Everything glowed: the walls, the floor, the stone, even the air was glowing brightly (which was actually, come to think of it, something that even the most expensive special effects would be unlikely to replicate), highlighted by a brilliant halo of pure magical energy. There was a whining, high pitched sound in the background, the sort of sound a damaged motor might make just before it exploded.
This was the sort of scene that you'd expect to find if you looked up 'volatile' in a well illustrated dictionary, with plenty of references to the entries 'dangerous', 'unstable' and 'pretty damn freakish'.
* * * * *
Seraph, Cantrip and Penelope flew through the tunnels, carried on the back of a unicorn.
Cantrip's head was still reeling from the shock of discovering that he was an Ancient. There are few things more unnerving than spending the last 16 years living a normal life, only to find out that you're someone else entirely. Revelations like that tend to upset people, to say the least. And then another thought clicked into place.
The Gifts were claimed about fifty years ago, and Cantrip had been alive for sixteen years old now. So what the hell happened to the years in between? How many previous lives did he have before this one? The old man had mentioned that his memories lay locked within the tattoo, so presumably an answer lay somewhere within its intricate patterns.
Ancient One had given them very precise instructions on how to get out of the tunnels, and apparently he really did know everything. The tunnels gradually grew brighter, and eventually the unicorn burst out into the sunlight and turned majestically in the air, turning towards the peak of the Spire. And there, for just a fleeting fraction of a moment, was a picture-perfect second: the unicorn poised to leap into flight, its wings spread out wide, while its three passengers clung on determinedly. It was, in fact, the sort of magical moments that you find on movie posters and promotional leaflets.
And then the unicorn began its ascent, and the moment was gone.
* * * * *
By the time they reached the peak, the magic had gone completely haywire. The magical buildup inside the fortress had gone way beyond critical now: on a scale of zero to ten for magical activity, it was scoring triple digits. Bits of the fortress had been blown apart, and the dislodged bricks spun around the shattered fortress like a mini solar system of masonry.
Cantrip, Seraph and Penelope shielded their eyes from the sight. Everything was glowing brightly, and the magic was causing the brightness to shimmer crazily, with rapidly changing colours and psychedelic lighting effects. Taking a deep breath, they stepped forward...
...as a pair of wrinkled, gnarled hands shot out from behind them, dragging Seraph and Penelope backwards.
"Fools! Step away!" hissed the Messenger, clutching tightly onto Seraph and Penelope. "Do you have the faintest idea what you're doing?! That's pure magical energy! You'll be fried alive if you step any closer!"
Up ahead, Cantrip was forging onwards, fighting against the huge magical forces that were buffeting his frail body. It was like walking up a wind tunnel with the fan blowing full blast: every step took an incredible amount of effort, and it was a wonder he was still standing at all.
Seraph peered into the maelstrom, and was almost blinded for his efforts. All he could see through the magical barrage was a vague shape that was probably Cantrip, and a lot of weird colours. The Messenger's grip was like hardened steel, and he suspected she was right, anyway: there was so much magic there, it would probably kill him if he walked any closer.
Cantrip had reached what remained of the main doors: it was a gaping hole now, as the magic had eaten away both the wooden doors and most of the entire doorway as well. There was an incredible amount of energy swirling around him, and he was forced on his knees by the huge forces pushing against him. Crawling on all fours, Cantrip pushed forward.
There was a terrible booming sound, as a shockwave of energy exploded outwards from the stone in the center of the fortress. It slammed into Cantrip, sending him spinning backwards. The shockwave viciously tore through everything else in its path, smashing what little remained of the once mighty fortress.
Cantrip struggled to a crouching position, just as a second shockwave boomed outwards from the stone. The stone was beginning to crack now, with what seemed like pure beams of light streaming out of the hairline cracks, blindingly bright. Time was running out, and Cantrip crawled forward again, inching closer to the stone.
Past the doors, and into what used to be the hallway.
Another shockwave... Cantrip ducked as it roared by, ripping tiles from the floor and sending loose bricks spinning into the air.
Past the hallway. Not too far now.
And there... the stone! Great cracks had split the stone right down the middle, and shafts of white energy were coming out of the stone itself. The air was burning with magic, and smelled vaguely like scorched solder. Cantrip pulled himself forward, just a few more steps. Just a bit more now.
He laid his hands on the stone.... and it was so cold, it burned right through his skin. Cantrip was screaming now, bathed in magic in its purest form. He slammed his body against the stone, again and again, each blow causing magic to randomly warp the air around the stone, turning it into various colours. Cantrip screamed again, and gave the stone one final slam with all the energy he had left.
The stone shuddered, then started to topple. It fell onto the floor in a great crash before shattering into a million pieces. All the magic in the stone shot outwards in one massive shockwave, but there in the middle of it was a shimmering figure...
Ancient Five. He had tried to contain too much magic, it leaked everywhere: even his fingertips had curling wisps of energy coming from them. Cantrip did not even stop to think... he charged forward, barreled into the unresisting body of Ancient Five, and continued running, charging right towards the edge of the Spire peak.
And then he ran out of ground to run on, and, still clutching Ancient Five, fell towards the world below.
* * * * *
Falling from a great height without any form of safety harness whatsoever was a curious sensation, mostly because most people only get to do it once. Everything below appeared tiny, for one thing.
Cantrip fell, and everything spread out below did appear smaller to him. He was severely weakened, but alive. Ancient Five fell with him, blazing with magic, like a mini comet with a long flaming tail made of pure energy. There was one thing left to do for Cantrip.
As the rushing air whipped into Cantrip, he steered himself towards Ancient Five's falling body. He grasped blindly, and felt his fingers close on soft cloth, tingling with a magical flame. All or nothing now... taking a deep breath, he reached out with the other hand and grabbed more cloth. And then he swung Ancient Five's body around in midair like a hammer throw, hurling it as far away from the Spire as he could...
Which was the last thing Cantrip remembered before his vision completely failed from sheer fatigue. Over the sound of the wind, Cantrip could have sworn that he heard the distant beat of unicorn wings... and then all consciousness abandoned him.
* * * * *
Swung off course, Ancient Five fell beyond the edge of the island, and continued falling until he plunged beneath the clouds, and vanished.
Hours later, there was a massive rumble, and the entire island was hit by its first earthquake in recorded history. For the better part of an hour, the whole City shook, and the terrified citizens cowered until the quake passed. The earthquake itself was rather puzzling, but what was really weird was the fact that, once it was over, the clouds far below the island had mysteriously parted in an extremely large circumference, and the islanders could finally see what lay below: a huge, hundred mile wide crater, where it appeared something had exploded, blowing away whatever had been unfortunate enough to be there before.
* * * * *
Another rune lit up within the Vault. Ancient One let a toothless grin spread across his face, and then he shuffled over to the rune of Power. At last... those fools had been useful, after all. Unfortunately, there was no way to obtain the Immortality rune.. but that doesn't matter in the least.
Ancient One stretched out a metal, spiky arm, and claimed Power as his own.
next chapter
Far above the Spire, the clouds were churning. They had turned pure black, and were swirling for miles around like water going down the drainhole of an great big bathtub in the sky. Every few seconds, lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled ominously. The overall effect was eerie and appropriately apocalyptic.
Deep within the fortress, the rectangular stone shuddered wildly. All around it, magic had reached saturation point, and it was twisting the fabric of reality into really odd patterns. Everything glowed: the walls, the floor, the stone, even the air was glowing brightly (which was actually, come to think of it, something that even the most expensive special effects would be unlikely to replicate), highlighted by a brilliant halo of pure magical energy. There was a whining, high pitched sound in the background, the sort of sound a damaged motor might make just before it exploded.
This was the sort of scene that you'd expect to find if you looked up 'volatile' in a well illustrated dictionary, with plenty of references to the entries 'dangerous', 'unstable' and 'pretty damn freakish'.
* * * * *
Seraph, Cantrip and Penelope flew through the tunnels, carried on the back of a unicorn.
Cantrip's head was still reeling from the shock of discovering that he was an Ancient. There are few things more unnerving than spending the last 16 years living a normal life, only to find out that you're someone else entirely. Revelations like that tend to upset people, to say the least. And then another thought clicked into place.
The Gifts were claimed about fifty years ago, and Cantrip had been alive for sixteen years old now. So what the hell happened to the years in between? How many previous lives did he have before this one? The old man had mentioned that his memories lay locked within the tattoo, so presumably an answer lay somewhere within its intricate patterns.
Ancient One had given them very precise instructions on how to get out of the tunnels, and apparently he really did know everything. The tunnels gradually grew brighter, and eventually the unicorn burst out into the sunlight and turned majestically in the air, turning towards the peak of the Spire. And there, for just a fleeting fraction of a moment, was a picture-perfect second: the unicorn poised to leap into flight, its wings spread out wide, while its three passengers clung on determinedly. It was, in fact, the sort of magical moments that you find on movie posters and promotional leaflets.
And then the unicorn began its ascent, and the moment was gone.
* * * * *
By the time they reached the peak, the magic had gone completely haywire. The magical buildup inside the fortress had gone way beyond critical now: on a scale of zero to ten for magical activity, it was scoring triple digits. Bits of the fortress had been blown apart, and the dislodged bricks spun around the shattered fortress like a mini solar system of masonry.
Cantrip, Seraph and Penelope shielded their eyes from the sight. Everything was glowing brightly, and the magic was causing the brightness to shimmer crazily, with rapidly changing colours and psychedelic lighting effects. Taking a deep breath, they stepped forward...
...as a pair of wrinkled, gnarled hands shot out from behind them, dragging Seraph and Penelope backwards.
"Fools! Step away!" hissed the Messenger, clutching tightly onto Seraph and Penelope. "Do you have the faintest idea what you're doing?! That's pure magical energy! You'll be fried alive if you step any closer!"
Up ahead, Cantrip was forging onwards, fighting against the huge magical forces that were buffeting his frail body. It was like walking up a wind tunnel with the fan blowing full blast: every step took an incredible amount of effort, and it was a wonder he was still standing at all.
Seraph peered into the maelstrom, and was almost blinded for his efforts. All he could see through the magical barrage was a vague shape that was probably Cantrip, and a lot of weird colours. The Messenger's grip was like hardened steel, and he suspected she was right, anyway: there was so much magic there, it would probably kill him if he walked any closer.
Cantrip had reached what remained of the main doors: it was a gaping hole now, as the magic had eaten away both the wooden doors and most of the entire doorway as well. There was an incredible amount of energy swirling around him, and he was forced on his knees by the huge forces pushing against him. Crawling on all fours, Cantrip pushed forward.
There was a terrible booming sound, as a shockwave of energy exploded outwards from the stone in the center of the fortress. It slammed into Cantrip, sending him spinning backwards. The shockwave viciously tore through everything else in its path, smashing what little remained of the once mighty fortress.
Cantrip struggled to a crouching position, just as a second shockwave boomed outwards from the stone. The stone was beginning to crack now, with what seemed like pure beams of light streaming out of the hairline cracks, blindingly bright. Time was running out, and Cantrip crawled forward again, inching closer to the stone.
Past the doors, and into what used to be the hallway.
Another shockwave... Cantrip ducked as it roared by, ripping tiles from the floor and sending loose bricks spinning into the air.
Past the hallway. Not too far now.
And there... the stone! Great cracks had split the stone right down the middle, and shafts of white energy were coming out of the stone itself. The air was burning with magic, and smelled vaguely like scorched solder. Cantrip pulled himself forward, just a few more steps. Just a bit more now.
He laid his hands on the stone.... and it was so cold, it burned right through his skin. Cantrip was screaming now, bathed in magic in its purest form. He slammed his body against the stone, again and again, each blow causing magic to randomly warp the air around the stone, turning it into various colours. Cantrip screamed again, and gave the stone one final slam with all the energy he had left.
The stone shuddered, then started to topple. It fell onto the floor in a great crash before shattering into a million pieces. All the magic in the stone shot outwards in one massive shockwave, but there in the middle of it was a shimmering figure...
Ancient Five. He had tried to contain too much magic, it leaked everywhere: even his fingertips had curling wisps of energy coming from them. Cantrip did not even stop to think... he charged forward, barreled into the unresisting body of Ancient Five, and continued running, charging right towards the edge of the Spire peak.
And then he ran out of ground to run on, and, still clutching Ancient Five, fell towards the world below.
* * * * *
Falling from a great height without any form of safety harness whatsoever was a curious sensation, mostly because most people only get to do it once. Everything below appeared tiny, for one thing.
Cantrip fell, and everything spread out below did appear smaller to him. He was severely weakened, but alive. Ancient Five fell with him, blazing with magic, like a mini comet with a long flaming tail made of pure energy. There was one thing left to do for Cantrip.
As the rushing air whipped into Cantrip, he steered himself towards Ancient Five's falling body. He grasped blindly, and felt his fingers close on soft cloth, tingling with a magical flame. All or nothing now... taking a deep breath, he reached out with the other hand and grabbed more cloth. And then he swung Ancient Five's body around in midair like a hammer throw, hurling it as far away from the Spire as he could...
Which was the last thing Cantrip remembered before his vision completely failed from sheer fatigue. Over the sound of the wind, Cantrip could have sworn that he heard the distant beat of unicorn wings... and then all consciousness abandoned him.
* * * * *
Swung off course, Ancient Five fell beyond the edge of the island, and continued falling until he plunged beneath the clouds, and vanished.
Hours later, there was a massive rumble, and the entire island was hit by its first earthquake in recorded history. For the better part of an hour, the whole City shook, and the terrified citizens cowered until the quake passed. The earthquake itself was rather puzzling, but what was really weird was the fact that, once it was over, the clouds far below the island had mysteriously parted in an extremely large circumference, and the islanders could finally see what lay below: a huge, hundred mile wide crater, where it appeared something had exploded, blowing away whatever had been unfortunate enough to be there before.
* * * * *
Another rune lit up within the Vault. Ancient One let a toothless grin spread across his face, and then he shuffled over to the rune of Power. At last... those fools had been useful, after all. Unfortunately, there was no way to obtain the Immortality rune.. but that doesn't matter in the least.
Ancient One stretched out a metal, spiky arm, and claimed Power as his own.
next chapter
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