Mark of the Fool

It was perfect.

Power bled from it in waves touched by a hint of the aeld’s natural warmth. A mound of snow nestled beneath the branch melted away from its touch, and its golden-green light sparkled in the melting rivulets.

“Oh, by the Traveller.” Alex reached toward the gift, feeling pure magic tingle across his fingers. Pure magic mixed with…something he couldn’t immediately name.

But, the instant his fingers wrapped around the branch, it came to him. Warm feelings caressed him through its touch, and he felt a spark of the aeld tree’s consciousness.

His eyebrows rose. “You didn’t just detach a piece of your body from your trunk,” he realised. “You cleaved away a piece of your being.”

Warm affirmation tingled in his palm.

“I’ll be damned,” Alex turned the branch over in his hands, examining its smooth bark, marvelling at its balance. “Well, I’ll be gentle when I make my staff. And…oh boy, you’re going to make a good one. You have your own power and I can just imagine the mana conductivity you’ll have.”

He looked up at the aeld tree, excited. “Listen, as soon as it gets warm, I’ll get you a queen of hornets and a queen of honeybees. You’ll have them to bond with and protect yourself with in the future. I want to do that for you.”

‘I…and I will sing to you,’ Claygon said, stepping forward and running his stone hand along the aeld’s trunk. ‘As soon as I can…I will.’

Waves of gratitude emanated from the tree, seeping into Alex’s core through his grip on the branch.

“This is incredible,” he murmured.

“I agree,” a deep voice rumbled behind him.

“Gah!” The young wizard jumped, whirling around and finding a familiar horned figure looming over him. “Baelin! You scared me!”

“And you have only yourself to blame for that,” the chancellor chided. “After all, you have enough gifts to feel my power before I even arrive. If you did not sense the teleportation magic, then you simply are not paying enough attention.”

“But, I—” He pointed to the tree. “Aeld!”

“Indeed, but a Proper Wizard practises constant vigilance…well, perhaps not constant, but they must remain aware of their surroundings to at least a higher degree. Though, I must admit I can see why you would be a tad…distracted.” He eyed the aeld branch in Alex’s hand. “Fascinating. Such athing opens wonderful possibilities for you. And with very good timing too.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “The aeld tree seemed very happy when I offered to make Clay…go…wait. You said the timing’s good? What do you mean?”

“I’ve had contact with a mutual…acquaintance, shall we say,” the chancellor said pointedly.

“I’m not sure I follow,” Alex frowned, cocking his head to the side.

“One you came into conflict with and who also makes you rather uncomfortable,” Baelin smiled. “Since you lack the necessary wisdom and courage to find pleasure in life’s more exotic charms. For now.”

“Oh! Oh, by the Traveller!” Alex gagged, remembering the towering, demonic Zonon-In. “Ugh, no need to elaborate! I remember! I…wait, she contacted you? Already?”

“Indeed.” The ancient wizard rose up to his full height. “We are to complete our first…request from our acquaintance in a month.”

“In a month?” Alex gawked. “So soon?”

“So soon,” Baelin looked at the branch critically. “That is why I was looking for you, to share that information and give you the beginnings of a briefing so you would be ready when the time comes. If I were you, I’d start crafting that staff of yours. And doing so quickly.”

“Yeah…” Alex said, his mind whirling. “Yeeeeaah.”

“In otherworldly planes, there are times when our notions of material physics and geometry must be completely thrown away.” Baelin gestured to an illusion. “That especially applies to the demonically ruled hells, which are aligned with the cosmic force of chaos.”

As he lectured, the illusionary image whirled and shimmered above him, displaying an otherworldly hellscape. Stones the size of cities floated in a void of flame and scintillating colour, each covered with their own peculiar flora and twisted forms of demonic life. At times, arcs of red lightning shot between the stones, indiscriminately striking plants and demons, exploding anything it struck.

Baelin’s small audience glanced at each other.

And it was very small, indeed.

In the vast hall of trophies that served as the classroom for the Art of the Wizard in Combat, only Alex, Khalik, Claygon, Theresa and—by Baelin’s firm insistence—Selina were present.

The others who would be accompanying them on their special journey: the Heroes, remaining cabal members, and Grimloch, were away, either engaged in battle, or seeing family. In the sharkman’s case, Alex had the feeling that both options might be one and the same.

In time, upon returning from their commitments, the others would be given the same briefing, leaving the few present to be the first to begin their preparations for the upcoming trial. And have a longer time to dread it.

Grimacing, Prince Khalik raised his hand.

“Yes, do you have a question, young Khalik?” Baelin asked.

“I do,” the young man said as he fed Najyah a small morsel of beef while she perched on his desk. “Does this…chaotic force affect our mana and magic?”

“It can.” Baelin turned the illusion, focusing the image on a space between the titanic floating stones. A flock of lean demons were dancing through the storm, their vulture-like beaks silently cackling among the crimson lightning. Their limbs flailed in a ruinous mockery of grace, their tails lashing and their wings whipping wildly about their shoulders. “For example…do you see anything strange happening in this scene?”

Baelin’s students leaned forward in their chairs, each studying the strange demons’ capering, looking for some missing detail.

It was Khalik who gave the first cry of realisation. “Their wings do not move at all as they should. They should not be staying airborne.”

“Very good, Khalik,” Baelin pointed to the flailing wings. “In the material world, if their wings moved in such an erratic manner, they would plummet to the ground in a pile of broken bones and shattered flesh. However, in this domain of the hells, the rules of lift do not apply in the same way that they do here. Neither do the rules of gravity. Demons can take advantage of this, but for those from the material world who use wings—”

He looked at Najyah.

“—or flight magic—”

He looked at Alex.

“—to soar into the air, they will experience a complete loss of control over their flight paths as the physical rules of our reality cease to apply. A flight spell will become completely chaotic, and wing beats can cause one to move in any random direction as gravity changes around them.”

“Huh…” Alex said, pointing to a floating stone. “It looks like gravity applies to each of those giant rocks though, right? I’m noticing demons walking around on them just fine without falling off.” He squinted. “Even when they’re walking on the sides or bottom.”

“Another good observation,” Baelin said. “Indeed, if you do stay low in altitude while flying around one of these floating stones, you will be fine as long as you remember that gravity will always pull toward the centre of the stone, no matter how or when it turns. ‘Up’ and ‘down’ do not exist as general concepts in this domain.”

He ran his finger through a stone’s image. “It only applies to each of these stones individually. When you are standing on, or flying near one? ‘Up’ is away from the stone. ‘Down’ is toward it. It is as simple as that…on the surface. That’s but one example where the laws of magic, physics and reality can become very different in other planes. Which leads us to the main thrust of what we will be doing.”

The image suddenly shifted with most of the floating stones melting away, leaving but one.

It was far larger than the others, and looked as though some impossibly titanic crafter had carved it to form the rough shape of a demon’s skull. From the top of theskulla massive fortress of black stone rose, easily as large as the entire university campus. From a large number of the fortresses’ windows bled a hideous mix of boiling blood and glowing lava, running down its sides then disappearing somewhere deep within the skull-like stone below.

Alex grimaced. “Well, that looks like a charming place.”

“Good place for a date,” Theresa agreed sarcastically.

“I would love to build a summer home there,” Prince Khalik added with a wry smile. “Imagine the view! And, ugh, the smell must be something.’

‘Dangerous place…’ Claygon thought. ‘Lots of…monsters.’

“This is the Hold of Ikarrash.” The ancient wizard peered at the stronghold. “And it is the headquarters of one of Ezaliel’s more powerful lieutenants: a greater demon by the name of…well, of Ikarrash. Thanks to some…information I received, I have the layout of this stronghold and—together—we will be slaying him and destroying the place entirely.”

Baelin grinned viciously. “Fun, hm?”

“Yeah…” Alex said. “Fun.”

“Oh, spare me your sarcasm, you will gain much from this experience!” The ancient wizard laughed, “and while I deal with Ikarrash himself, you will be infiltrating his fortress from below and eliminating his three sons! They are powerful demonic princelings who would naturally assume control if left to their own devices.”

Khalik cracked his knuckles. “This sounds…potentially like suicide.”

“Oh, bah!” Baelin waved a hand dismissively. “You will have my spell-marks to protect you, not to mention being accompanied by the Heroes of Thameland. I would still worry, of course, but this is by no means a suicide mission. A Proper Wizard does not engage in such activities unless under the greatest of duress. In truth, I think with Claygon and the Heroes supporting you, you will have more than enough power to slay your targets. The question is, can you handle the strange hazards the realm itself presents? That will be your first task.”

The chancellor snapped his fingers, producing a flare of teleportation magic. From thin air a stack of floating tomes appeared, each larger than a dinner platter.

“You will be using these texts on demonology to research the realm,” Baelin said. “Note that I have told you the name of the fortress we shall assault, but not the name of the hellish domain it is found on. A Proper Wizard should know how to research any otherworldly plane of existence that they seek to enter, and how to prepare accordingly for the specific risks that venturing to such a domain will bring. I could tell you all the risks involved in this journey, but that would engender helplessness and bad habits. Still, these are the hells we are speaking of.”

He waved the books over to the small group. “Therefore, I shall not leave you completely without guidance: I have already gathered the appropriate books in which you can search. But, for the next domain we visit, you will be expected to source all books yourselves. Any questions?”

Theresa raised her hand. “How many demons are there in that castle?”

“Tens of thousands,” Baelin said calmly. “Perhaps more. It will be in your best interest to use the terrain to take away your enemy’s advantage in numbers.”

“Yeah,” Theresa whistled. “You can say that again.”

Khalik raised his hand. “What of earth magic? Will it work on those stones? Or is that magic also twisted by the domain?”

“You will have to research that yourselves, I’m afraid,” the ancient wizard said. “Any more questions?”

Selina slowly raised her hand.

The others looked at her, and Baelin paused in surprise.

“Yes, Selina?” He asked, his tone gentle.

“Why are the three sons away from their father?” She asked slowly. “Wouldn’t they be together?”

Baelin smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Out of the mouths of babes. Indeed, an excellent observation Selina. And the answer is that members of this demonic family do not get along so well, according to my intelligence. Father will not come to aid his sons if they are too weak to survive an enemy on their own power, and sons will not aid father since they serve him out of fear.”

Alex frowned, raising his hands. “Then how about the sons? Do they work well together?”

Baelin smiled wickedly, pointing to the floating stacks of books. “Read and find out, my young friends. Read and find out.”

Khalik sighed mournfully. “And so dies our winter break.”