《The Spell Crafter》Chapter Four - The Scar

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The rain continued all through the night and Kanick, despite the snores of his apprentice sleeping on the floor, was grateful for the roof and stout walls of the inn. As sleep claimed him, listening to the lashings of the weather outside, he hoped the rain would be a passing thing, and the conditions they had enjoyed so far would continue.

No such luck.

The wind howled all through breakfast, rain bouncing from the windows as the shutters rattled. The streets were running in streams as they untied their horses. Luckily the main road was of good quality with adequate drainage or their mission to Woodbend would have been in serious jeopardy.

Six days later, with the exception of intermittent halts, the rain still continued, as the Parras Road became The West Road towards Aaton. The traffic they had previously seen around Parras and Merryton was now absent as they reached the foothills of the Aannine Hills. By nightfall they were sodden, sore and ill-tempered, but could not travel any further.

Still Kanick debated continuing. They were within a league of the Old North Road now. Had the weather been better they would have seen the split peaks of the Bergarm, and the dead, arid land known as the Scar. As it stood, Kanick could barely see the edge of the road and he knew some of the drops here, while not deadly, would certainly lame a horse.

"We should stop here," Kanick yelled over the wind and rain when he saw a good spit of land for a campsite. He ignored the feeling of unease, on the edge of his perception. Old magic, and the broken land. Bera halted his horse and dismounted, guiding her onto the patch of grass.

"I don't think I feel very well," Bera announced.

"It's the Scar," Kanick explained. "Powerful magic can linger and can often be unpredictable."

"Should I light a fire?" Bera asked, after a moment. They both knew that lighting a fire by conventional means would be difficult in the weather.

"Best not. We're too close to the Scar," Kanick said, and began the miserable task of unpacking his canvas. He had tried to keep it as dry as possible, but with the weather it had proven impossible to do, and even the inside was slightly damp.

"I'll take first watch," Bera offered.

Kanick struggled with the tent, his hands stiff and aching. Still, he waved Bera away when the boy had finished pitching his own tent. Once it was up he stripped out of his robes and underclothes and settled into his oiled sleeping sack, which had thankfully remained dry on the inside.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the chill on his face, the wind through the gaps in the canvas and the uncomfortable moist feeling where the rain had soaked through his clothes. The sleep he settled into was a weak facsimile of the real thing, full of half-dreams and frantic turning to get comfortable.

Sleep must have visited him at some point, for Kanick found himself woken by his apprentice's voice.

"Master, come quick!"

Kanick threw on his robes, still damp, and grabbed his sword, though he had no hope of using it in a true fight. He quickly rifled through his satchel, stuffing runes for fire and lightning inside his robes. He thanked himself for opting to use the waxed paper.

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Bera was stood, sword drawn with rain beading in the tangles of his hair. He was armoured under his robes, and Kanick wondered if he had slept like that. The boy had already activated a rune for light, which was glowing softly in a ball above them. The horses whinnied and knickered uneasily at the edge of the light.

"What is it?" Kanick asked, approaching the apprentice.

"I- I'm not sure, Master. I thought I felt something move in the darkness and voices in the distance..." He looked unsure of himself now.

Kanick turned to survey the scene. Beyond their pool of light was only darkness, and the only sound Kanick could hear was the occasional patter of rain on canvas and the constant splatter in the road. He stayed silent, by the tent for a few moments longer, his eyes just able to make out the nearby verges and rocks scattered in the landscape. There was no hint of the dawn in the black sky. Nor the hint of any movement.

"I don't hear anything," Kanick said. "Sometimes, in the night your mind can play tricks-"

Suddenly there was a scratching sound, like an oversized dog scrabbling too fast over a stone floor. Before Kanick had time to call out, a figure leapt from the shadows.

In an instant Kanick found himself pushed aside as the horses screamed and reared, pulling against their teathers. From the ground he saw Bera with his sword parrying the creature's snarling jaws.

By the light of the fire, Kanick saw the creature was made of shadowey, swirling grey flesh flashed through with dancing purple flame under it's skin. He immediately recognised it as one of Palregon's demons, made of magic flesh and bound to serve a master who no longer existed. Such things were drawn to the Scar by the lingering magic of their old master and the strong magical energies that ran through the land.

This one had clearly been a fighter; snarling jaws, blades along its forearms with claws sharp as daggers that glistened dangerously in the wet light. It was vaguely humanoid, though Palregon's inspiration had clearly been more beast than man.

Bera slashed at the creature's mouth and twisted away out of it's reach.

The creature spun with him, cutting at the air, and Bera stumbled away narrowly avoiding the creature's claws but leaving himself off balance. The apprentice frantically jabbed with his sword, connecting with the creature's magic flesh, resulting in a hot acrid smell. The beast fell back, suddenly weary.

Kanick's mind raced through their inventory of spells. The destructive elemental spells would suffice, naturally, though Palregon's corruptions were well crafted and it would require many strikes, and with the creature harrying Bera so closely the risk of such an approach was self-evident.

His apprentice's sword was beginning to flag, his parries becoming sluggish and the thrust of his blade slowing. The screams of the horses were relentless, as was the continual thudding as they tried to slip away. Soon they would bolt, possibly into the valley below.

From across the camp Kanick could see the fear on his apprentice's face as he was forced backwards into the road. Just hold it a little longer, Kanick thought at him and drew his sword.

He tore his gaze away from the frantic horses, the desperate fight, and began carving at the grass with the tip of the blade. He needed to balance speed and precision with his aching cramped hands, and began cutting deep lines in the earth. The creature was still bound to its master's will, but time should have decayed that bond, Kanick reasoned as he applied the finishing touches to the rune carved into the damp earth.

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The demon towered over Bera, so that Kanick could no longer see his apprentice. He took one of the pieces of waxed paper, a single rune written in black ink upon it and held it in front of him, activating the mark. The strip remained fixed in the air as it began to dissolve into purple embers. Just as the paper was consumed a flash lit up the hillside like a single instant of daylight and the creature howled out in pain.

Kanick, blinked away the afterimage of the bolt of lightning and brandished his sword, yelling incoherently. The creature, wounded, turned away from Bera, who was lying bloodied by the side of the road.

The demon closed the gap in a single bound of its wolf-like legs, forcing Kanick to step back, clumsily, out of its reach. But it didn't matter. Whatever low intelligence powered the demon was not enough for it to recognise it now stood on a rune carved into the ground. Kanick, summoning his energies, activated the mark, which erupted into purple flames in the pattern of the runes.

Kanick could feel the creature's will inside his mind, heavy like lead but twisting and struggling like mercury.

"Demon!" He caught the creature's attention, though it did not advance any further towards him. "Your master is slain, and I command you now. Go, dissolve yourself and return to the ether from which you were wrought!"

The presence in his head resisted, not wanting to give up on the life it had been given. Kanick caught glimpses of its memory, attacks along this road but also other lesser travelled areas in the north, warm blood and dense flesh. A meeting with black robed figures. An agreement.

Pain began to trickle in, behind Kanick's eyes. He pushed his will further and the creature began to retreat from his mind.

"Dis-solve!" Kanick half screamed at the prone lump of grey flesh sprouting angry lines of purple fire across its skin. "Go!"

The demon raised its now featureless head, a maw of purple flames yawned open as it hissed and shrieked. And then, the creature dissolved, like all magic, in a flurry of purple embers, leaving the wet grass smouldering orange.

Bera scrambled across the camp, the horses were still panicked, and came to kneel next to Kanick. "Master!"

Tiredness almost overcame him and every muscle felt hopelessly weak like he had the flu. From the ground looking up at his apprentice was uncannily like looking up at Regius on that fateful day...

"The horses!" Kanick brushed his apprentice away and creaked slowly, shakily, to his feet. "We need to calm the horses!" He gasped and nearly fell back down. The world dimmed at the corners of his vision and the ground below him swam briefly before righting. It was getting difficult to concentrate now. "It wasn't alone," Kanick spat, his mouth collecting sour bile as he remembered the hooded figures.

Bera, who had been supporting him let go and jogged away to calm the horses. Kanick let the world swim, sweating with the effort of keeping upright and trying not to vomit as his insides slid around like jellied liver on a plate.

Summoning all his strength, Kanick stumbled to his tent and began packing up the essentials. He had seen mages in that thing's mind and knew them as the Sons of the Prince, making common cause with Palregon's other children. He knew they were nearby, for the creature had no reflex to guard its simple mind.

Stuffing his sleeping sack into a saddle bag he heard Bera's heavy footsteps on the ground next to him. "The horses are content, if a little skittish," he reported dutifully. "You said-"

"Yes," Kanick replied hastily, grabbing the bag of rudimentary medicines. "It was not alone. A group of mages, possibly the Sons, made common cause with the demon, and they are nearby."

Bera backed away, peering into the encroaching gloom, his spell weakening. "Where?"

"I do not know," Kanick replied, reaching for their bag of medicines. He pulled himself out of the tent, holding it up. "Are you wounded?" He asked.

The apprentice held out his forearm, the sleeve was darkened with blood. "It slashed at me, but not too deeply, I think."

"Come," Kanick gestured that he should kneel, and began rummaging in the bag for bandages. "This will have to do for now."

Fortunately, the cut was not too deep, though he would like to have done more than simply bandage it. Yet, Kanick reminded himself, that healing magic was tricky and a novice could easily misdirect the spell and do even more harm than the original injury.

As he worked, Kanick decided not to explain how easily wounds from such creatures could go bad, instead saying, "We'll do more for it when we next stop. Prepare your horse, take only the essentials; food, water, sleeping sack and armour. We must leave the rest."

Bera was still pale but hadn't succumbed to the shock that sometimes came over people after their first taste of raw violence. Instead the apprentice's eyes narrowed into focus and he nodded before grabbing bags from his tent and attaching them to his saddle.

With effort Kanick pulled himself up onto his horse. It was only the fear of the mages in the dark that was keeping him going now. "I'll cast another light," Kanick yelled over the rain, which luckily appeared to be easing slightly, "We will ride until morning!"

Kanick activated the spell from within his satchel. The strip of paper hung in the air before dissolving into a cloud of purple sparks from which sprung an orb of yellow light. In that moment, from the road behind, he could make out figures made from the shadows in the distant darkness.

"They are close!" Kanick yelled. "Ride hard, and do not stop," he told his apprentice, trying to keep his voice level, imparting a sense of calm that he did not feel. "Whatever happens, do not stop!"

They spurred their mounts and galloped off into the darkness, the spelled light guiding their way over the black cobbled road.

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