Soul of Magic (Soul of Magic Book 1)

TWELVE

They hadn't ventured deeply into the tunnel when Lucian stopped all of a sudden, causing Kyra to stop as well. "Are you okay?" she asked with a lot of concern etched on her face; he looked hurt even though he had no injuries.

"Ghalador needs my help, Kyra," he said to her. "And I'm going to give it to him, whether he wants it or not."

"But he said-".

"I know what he said!" he cut in, shouting at her. But he quickly got control of himself. “I’m sorry, Kyra. I know my supposed role was to be your protector and I’ll be that, I promise. But I need to protect Ghalador first.”

"Look Lucian, I understand how you feel. Believe me, I do," she said, touching his shoulder as she looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. "I want to help him too but he said we have to go. Ghalador is a wise man and I think we should do as he says."

"Ghalador is like a father to me. I’ll never be able to live with myself if something happened to him and I didn’t do anything to prevent," he said as he prepared to leave. "I promise to come find you when all this is over."

Kyra could only watch as Lucian ran back towards the castle and Ghalador. He had made his decision there and then; nothing she said or did, even as the Soul of magic, was going to change that.

***

Tristan looked up at the castle that depicted the home of the wizards as he marched closer with his men and smiled wickedly. The cretins had dared to refuse him and he was going to make them pay; dearly. He raised his hand and his men came to a halt when they got close enough to the castle to see its inhabitants. As expected, six wizards were already waiting for them on the castle's wall, shooting them all an unfriendly glare. They would all be grovelling very soon, Tristan assured himself, they all did eventually.

Riding up to the front, the warlord asked, "Who among you is in charge?"

"I am," came a voice from above and the men parted way as a brown-haired man walked through their middle to the wall's edge. "What do you want?"

"Ghalador," Tristan said with a smile. "Oh, you don’t know how glad I am you’ve come to handle this situation like the wise man you are, my friend."

"Drop the pretense, Tristan," returned the seer with a lot of contempt. "You and I aren't friends and you know that."

"Very well, Ghalador," concurred Tristan but still keeping up the smile. "Perhaps we can talk as two civilized men then. I want to ask for your help as regards a matter of magic. Of course, I don’t expect you to work for free. I’m offering wealth and protection in return. Anything you want, I’ll provide as long as long as you stand with me."

"Get away from here, you sniveling pig!" Ghalador slammed his fists against the wall like he did when he was angry; he was done tolerating Tristan. "I told you once before and I'll tell you again. My people are not for sale, especially not to the likes of you."

And it was Tristan's turn to huff in anger. "I swear you’ll regret all you just said, Seer. You and your people alike." And turning to his men, he shouted, "Destroy them all!"

Immediately, four siege catapults appeared out of thin air by the command of Tristan’s wizards. They commanded big balls of fire on top of the catapults and they were immediately launched at the castle.

"Together with me!" Ghalador commanded and all the men at the wall joined hands with him and closed their eyes.

Just as the fireballs were about to hit, a giant wall of water suddenly rose behind them and crashed down to meet the attack head-on; dousing the flames. But that turned out not to be all as the water transformed into large stone boulders and crashed onto the men below.

Tristan shouted in anger as he dodged being crushed under one of the incoming projectiles. "Destroy them, I say!" he shouted at his men again. "Destroy them or it’ll be your heads on the pikes, you worthless beings!" But his men were too busy trying to avoid the death and commotion around them to respond.

Out of nowhere, dark-green lights shot out of the ground towards Ghalador and his men. "Shields!" shouted the seer and a transparent magic bubble shield formed around him.

Unfortunately, not many of other wizards were as fast as him and the lights hit them, turning into petrified blocks of stone before they fell over the wall and shattered into a million pieces on the ground.

Seeing the breach in defense, Tristan's men charged towards the gates with a battle cry But they were soon surprised when the gate opened and many wizards came charging out on horsebacks to meet them squarely.

Unfortunately, valiant as they were, the oncoming wizards were no warriors although the element of surprise did help them fell a lot of the warlord’s men, the latter soon began to seize control of the battle.

"No!" Ghalador gasped as he saw the m******e the battle was soon becoming. The wizards would all be killed very soon unless he did something about it, and urgently too.

But just as he was about to summon his magic from within, a blonde-haired boy he knew so well, and thought was already somewhere safe, charged out of the gates with a shout so full of rage that the wall beneath the seer reverberated it and rammed into the enemies. "Death to the lot of you!" Lucian shouted as he cut down men from all angles. He was like a demon come out of the Darkness with a mission of death and vengeance; and in a way, he was.

Facing Tristan, he shouted, "Come and die like a man, you coward!"

The warlord roared as he accepted the challenge. "Take care of the others,” he commanded his men. “Leave the boy to me."

Tristan removed a very large and frightening broadsword from his scabbard as he jumped off his horse and faced Lucian squarely. The two circled once, then twice, and then they charged.

Meeting in the middle, their swords clashed with a mighty sound. Tristan went for Lucian's shoulder but the latter quickly parried it, coming in with a turning s***h at Tristan's head but he ducked just as the sword came slashing by. Tristan tried a leg sweep but Lucian quickly jumped up, coming down with a strike at Tristan's head again but he rolled away. Both parties were evenly matched and it was obviously not going to be an easy battle for either one of them.

Suddenly, one of Tristan’s men, an archer, shot at Lucian from behind. But the latter was swerving from the arrow before turning and throwing his sword at the archer; catching him right in the throat. Unfortunately, that also resulted in him weaponless; which in hindsight, he realized was what Tristan wanted all along.

"You’re not fighting fair," Lucian said to Tristan.

"You should have known, boy," he replied, a mocking expression on his face. "There is no unfair in war."

The warlord charged at Lucian to finish him off but no sooner had he taken two steps that he was suddenly blown back by a violent gust of wind. "Don't you dare touch my son, Tristan," said Ghalador as he appeared in front of Lucian.

Seeing the wizard responsible for all of their troubles, Tristan's men all charged at once at Ghalador; and Lucian too by extension. The both of them had become the last men standing. The foster father and son fought bravely, the both of them standing strong and felling their assailants. But suddenly, an arrow hit Ghalador in the chest.

"No!" Lucian shouted as he saw the seer go to the ground. He tore through the men as he fought to get to his foster father but he was so concentrated on the fallen man that he didn't see the club coming at him until it was too late. It hit him on the head and he fell to the ground too; too disoriented to do nothing but groan on the ground. His assailant raised the club once more to finish but Tristan suddenly came up from behind and held his hand.

"My lord, we should kill him now while he’s still down," said the man, still attempting to go for the final strike.

"No," Tristan replied firmly as he observed Lucian very closely for the first time. "Look, he's wearing a travelling outfit, which means he just arrived from somewhere."

"There are other wizards out there," the second man suddenly caught on to what his master had seen. "And you're going to make the boy lead us to them."

"Finally, you're thinking with your head," a wicked smile came onto the warlord’s face. "Victory is mine, and not even magic itself can stand against me."