Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Demons are the byproduct of when a spell that channels dark magic fails—though, I prefer the Elvish name for them; Khelsin. They aren’t particularly hard to kill, most aren’t even classified above Gold-Plated Hunters, but their ability to grow in size makes them pretty annoying.

Khelsin will take on one of three forms—Demis, humanoid bipeds that have horns growing from the sides of their head—Beast, quadrupeds with their spines protruding from their backs—Dragon, that’s pretty self-explanatory. Regardless of their form, they are made up of black ooze with eyes that glow yellow.

The Emperor’s Khelsin was that of a Beast and it didn’t take long for its size to become too much for the area. The debris rained down on Máire’s barrier, kicking up dust and smoke in all directions. It had knocked the torches from the wall, extinguishing some, while allowing others to start their feast upon the rafters. I adjusted my eyes through the smoke, trying to find an opening above the Khelsin’s head.

When I teleported above its head, the snout instantly turned toward me, with teeth snapping at the air between us. I continuously teleported in place, keeping myself afloat just out of range of its bite. It didn’t chase—it was watching me. If it grew in size, it would be able to reach me and it would also burn through its Dark Magic Reserve faster, but waiting on me to attack will make it impatient. The lust for destruction will be too strong.

I smirked under my mask as I felt the pressure in the air shift and the Khelsin launched spikes in all directions from its body. They began tearing through the castle, stretching down the hillside toward the city below.

*

The Emperor’s Castle sits at the top of a large grassy hill in Wylop with the main city starting a few hundred meters from the base. The Khelsin’s longest spike only made it a third of the way down, which meant the city was still safe, which also meant I didn’t have to hold back as much.

*

I threw my sword in the air just enough to adjust my grip around the blade itself, holding it like a spear. I pulled it back with my left, using my right to aim. “Tawuk gnis kabmut idad ukgnahdep agum-agum.” I whispered, throwing it forward. As it left my hand, the enchantment activated, engulfing my sword in a sapphire blue.

*

The enchantment I just used is known as Transmutation Magic. The Uth’Northol Elves of Sidra invented it around The Arogonda Age. It was a way for those unable to perform alchemy to do so with the use of magic. For those already capable of performing alchemy, this form of magic allowed them to perform alchemy faster and gave them a way to satisfy the law of equivalent exchange at any given moment by using their mana as the ingredients—I use it to transform my Artifact into other Artifacts, well, copies of Artifacts. I don’t get their full strength, but I get most of their perks.

*

I used the enchantment to transmute the shortsword into a spear, applying Enhancement Magic to increase its speed to the target. The spear traveled with such tremendous force that the air could be seen funneling around it. It closed the gap between us so quickly, that the Demon had no time to react and I almost missed the catch.

As the spear pressed into the Demon, the tip drove itself into a spiral, creating a cyclone through the head before exploding out the back. I teleported behind the new hole, my hand barely grabbing the end of the spear in time. I teleported back in front of Demon. The wound was already starting to heal, but it wouldn’t matter. I aimed the spear at its ribs and released my grip, allowing the continued force of the throw to propel the spear forward.

*

Demons aren’t too vastly intelligent, but what separates them from other enemies is when they are about to die—they become so desperate to live. A Demon’s life force is tied to the amount of Dark Magic that would have been used if the magic hadn’t failed. The moment their core is cracked, during that split of time between life and death—Demons will try to burn all the magic at once in the hopes of killing their attacker; so they can live.

*

It’s almost poetic, but the spear was traveling too fast, with too much force. 

The Demon tried to expel spikes in all directions but was instantly turned to stone as my spear pierced through its core and embedded itself into what was left of a castle wall—toppling another row of stone bricks.

I had teleported myself to what remained of the West side of the castle, a few meters away from the Demon’s petrified body. “They are so easy to kill—.” But even the fastest of warriors can’t prevent the damage that one can do in such a short period.

The Emperor’s castle has been in worse shape in the past, this same side of the castle was once completely removed by a mix of Dragon fire and alchemy.

I teleported back inside to where the others had taken shelter. They had all kept themselves under Máire’s barrier—just like I asked.

“You all listen better than those who were actually under orders to do so.” I nodded at Máire, signaling her to drop the barrier.

“You,” Ta’ock walked up to me so fast that I was sure he had used his Shadow Step to close the gap. “My father, did you beat him or did you not?”

“Orpheus is by far the strongest Warlord I have fought.” I replied, quickly directing the conversation away.

“That doesn’t tell me—.”

“I’m hungry, is anyone else hungry?” I interrupted Ta’ock. “I’m starving.” I surveyed the room, it was in ruins in all directions, but it wasn’t my problem. “Someone needs to clean this up,” I turned to Ta’ock, Conri, and Máire. “And since you all are in charge now,” I teleported myself back to the other side of the wall, placing my hands on little that remained, I called out to the three of them. “You best take care of it!” I waved at them as they turned their heads. “See ya guys soon!” I continued waving and began teleporting my way back to Varin before they even had a chance to complain.

*

“Xayddryrth is on the move again.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“He is moving faster this time.”

“Is that so?”

“You don’t seem troubled by this.”

“Why should I? Xayddryrth is inevitable, none of us have managed to kill him, nor have we been able to find out which of our own is helping him.”

“But he is the product of a Higher and a Dragon, once he regains his memories, all ten billion years of them, he will—.”

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“Come for us, again, as he has tried to do oh so many times before, we are Highers, he is a Dragon, we killed all the others, we will manage one more, we will get through this little bump in our way, we always do.”

*

“Aaachhoooo!” I quickly removed my mask and began wiping my nose. “Sorry, someone is talking about me.”

Varin looked at me, shifting herself back and forth with the rocking of the ship. “You’re so weird.”

*

When I returned, I had us set sail immediately, using forty-seven Mana Crystals to make sure we got a swift start. The Hier and Centalará Kingdoms have come together on many occasions, but their greatest collaboration has to be Mana Ships. Apart from being small, the ships are made from dark maroon wood, rounded into an oval with the stern being only a little bit wider than the bow. They weren’t equipped with a mast, instead, a stone goblet sits in the middle, just before the steps leading below deck. The entire ocean is filled with mana and with these ships, you can deposit Mana Crystals into the goblet and then—through levels of alchemy and magic beyond my education—the ship connects its mana to the ocean’s mana, and thanks to Direction Cubes, it will steer itself effortlessly to its destination—it can even avoid most problems without intervention.

*

“Hey Zero, I mean—.”

“No, do call me Zero, let’s not make it a habit to throw around a Dragon name, okay?”

“You’re right, but where did you go and why did you say and I quote, ‘Coming back here in a few months to years is going to be chaos and I can’t wait.’?”

Varin was sitting cross-legged in front of me, her back pressed against the side of the ship. We had talked off and on throughout the time I spent getting her prepared to leave, but this would be about a three week journey—we will have nothing to do but talk, so I was surprised she was jumping right into it so quickly.

“I killed The Emperor of Sidra.”

“Who is in charge now?”

This is why I love Varin. “Elves, Vampires, and Wolves.”

“Friends of yours?”

“You could say that, yes.”

There is only one other person in all of Arrithia that I can have a conversation like this with, a Demi by the name of Maeve. I can’t imagine how much bullying I would endure if these two were to ever come together, but I also have to wonder what Maeve has been up to after all these years.

“You never did answer me.”

Varin’s voice snapped me from the derailment my train of thought was heading towards. “About what?” 

“Don’t play dumb, you’re him, you’re The Purple Flame, the legendary swordsman who has always appeared when people need them most.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my flames were not purple.”

“They were in your eyes.”

Damnit, why did I turn my head back to her? “Varin, can we eat while we talk?”

Varin tried to stifle her laughter but some of it snuck out of her nose, causing the rest of it to follow—which meant I wasn’t too far behind—Varin’s laugh is very contagious.

*

I’m a terrible cook, baker, and food preparer. I will go out of my way to recruit people around me that can do one of those three things. I’ll fish, I’ll hunt, I’ll go bargain and buy, but beyond that, please leave me out of it—especially if you wish to enjoy the meal. Varin is an amazing cook—when you’re in the forest AND have the forest at your disposal, but on a ship, you are left to your own prospers—like fishing—or stocking up on premade goods before you depart.

I had stocked up on a plethora of items, but what we are currently indulging is what we like to call Pocket-Potatoes—it’s exactly what it sounds like, a potato, that goes in your pocket—you can get them savory, sweet, or whatever your heart desires—you can fill it with toppings or you can top it—with toppings—there is some magic involved, but man, you really can turn a potato into a lot of meals—I’d say it’s worth more than Onyx, mainly because you can’t eat Onyx.

*

Varin was asking questions in between her bites, trying to weasel in as much as she could in between my own. I told her how I hated The Purple Flame name and how most of those stories were embellished, but I could tell she was only believing half of what I was telling her. I finished my Pocket-Potato and wiped my mouth. “Tell me Varin, your mum, was she always that intimidating?”

“YOU’VE MET MY MOTHER?!” Varin stood up, her eyes fixated on me as if I had just told all of Arrithia her secrets, but this is what I get for becoming too relaxed and loving to talk.

“Yeah, funny story about this whole thing actually, uh, you want another Pock-Pot while I explain?” I tried to hand her another potato from my pocket, but Varin just glared at me, piercing through my mask and into my very soul.

“No, talk, how do you know my mother?”

“Yeah, so, she kinda hired me to bring you back home a few decades ago.”

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