Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2 (2 page)

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He laughed to himself while checking his website. He
created it by transferring his spell book into a blog and forum for fans of
“real world” magic. If enough people took him seriously, then maybe mana would
come. Then his suffering would end and he could truly enjoy waffles and corn
dogs again. It was a long shot
,
but he was willing to try anything.

Such an experiment would please me,
a voice in his
head said.
It is both fascinating and immoral.

Eric shook his head to clear it. For the last month or so,
he’d been hearing a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dengel himself. This
was impossible because Eric was a world away from him and such a man would
never follow him here. Thus, he considered it another symptom of mana thirst.

The site had mixed results. He got emails calling him a
nerd and telling him that he needed to get a life. On the other hand, he got
emails commending him for such a well-thought-out system, “even though it's
fake.” Very few people said they’d tried it and all said it didn't work. Eric
explained that only by carefully budgeting his mana was he able to create as
much as a ball of light. He didn't tell them the book was from another world
because that would have really driven them off. Then he would have to deal with
nice men in white coats taking him to the nuthouse.
There's only one
nuthouse I need to be in and it’s my guild.

He looked through his guest book, answered serious emails,
and added to the site's FAQ. This site was the highlight of his current life.
Talking with others about magical theory was almost as good as being on
Tariatla. Sometimes, the discussion was so engrossing, he forgot how thin the
air felt.

“Hey, Eric.”

The exiled mage jumped out of his seat. Emily, his
girlfriend, stood in the doorway of his apartment. Eric cursed himself
silently. A debate on the website about magically applied time travel was so
interesting that his finely tuned sense of awareness had dropped.
Basilard
would swear if he knew...

“You didn't answer, so I let myself in. You
do
remember we have a date today, right?” Eric looked at his computer's clock; the
day had passed without his noticing. He cursed himself anew. His girlfriend had
walked in wearing a cocktail dress and he was still in his pajamas.

“Oh, sorry,” Eric said, blushing. “I was so busy, I lost
track of time.”

“Really? What are you working on?” Emily crossed the room
before Eric could close the window. “Practical magic?”

“Oh yeah, I'm really into magic,” Eric said. “I do sleight-of-hand.
Remember?” Card tricks, rabbits, coin gags – he did that sort of thing all the
time in high school but lost interest until recently. They were a big hit at
office parties and he even embarrassed the resident schmoozer. Sleight-of-hand
was fun, but it was nothing like the real deal. Thinking about his small shows
made him think of a
real
show, where he performed
real
magic, and
had
real
friends and—

“Eric!” Emily shouted. Eric shook his head and apologized.
“You've been drifting off a lot lately. Like you're in another world.”

“I’m not!” Eric said harshly.

“That's another thing,” Emily said. “You've become
confident to the point of aggressive.”

“I had a lot of time to think. I didn't like who I was,” Eric
replied. “I wanted to be more confident, so I did.”

“I wish I could do that,” Emily said wistfully. “Change
just like that.”

“It wasn't easy. The struggle of the butterfly to escape
its cocoon makes it strong enough to survive. I simply hadn't fought out of my
cocoon yet.”

The cocoon was my own mind, thanks to that ancient
asshole…

You should be thanking me.

Eric shook his head vigorously.

“You've become philosophical too. I didn't know that about
you.”

Eric grinned. “There's a
lot
you don't know about
me. I bet there's a lot I don't know about you. I didn't know you wanted to
change yourself.”

“Well...Do you promise not to laugh?”

Eric nodded.

“I've had this dream – of flying. I've wanted to fly over
the world and see everything...but I could never push myself to do it.”

“I think that's a beautiful dream.”

“Really? I always thought it was some silly, childish
fantasy.”

Suddenly, Eric wasn't in his apartment anymore. He wasn't
in the city anymore, nor the planet, nor even the local universe contained
within the world fruit of the Great Tree, Noitearc. It all rushed by his eyes
in a blur of color and light. Once again, he was back in Roalt. Standing in the
dirt streets of the busy capital – looking at turtle taxis, flying griffins,
and
real magic
and hearing the mages cast spells, the merchants haggle,
artisans shouting, and the aroma of the food, and the
feeling
of mana
all around him! Giving him power and energy and –

“Eric!”

Gone. Just like that; it was all gone. All the sights and
smells and sounds of Tariatla vanished like a dream. Eric clutched his forehead
as he mentally shouted at himself that it
wasn't
a dream and that
Tariatla really
did
exist because he could
still
do magic and he
was
going
to get back there!
And –

“ERIC!”

Eric blinked and looked up. Emily stood over him with her
hands on his shoulders, looking worried. Eric smiled sheepishly and his face
heated up. He could only imagine how he looked to Emily just now, and how it
must have worried her. A new feeling hit: guilt. All this time and effort to
get somewhere when he already had something great here.

Then a second guilt appeared alongside the first. Emily
was the only reason he hadn't gone completely mad during his exile. There was a
reason for that. There were many great things waiting for him on Tariatla.
If
only I could get there!

“Eric, are you all right!? You're spacing out again.”

“I'm really sorry, Emily,” Eric said. “I'll change as
quickly as I can and then we can go.”

The exiled mage was in such a hurry, he forgot to turn off
his computer, so his homepage remained open. He dashed to his bedroom where his
date clothes were...somewhere. Emily sat down in his seat, placed her purse on
the desk, and looked over the page.

“You know...ever since Hanson promoted you, you've changed
a lot. You're helpful and friendly and you stand up to Aaron, but what were you
thinking last night?”

“Last night?”

She scanned the recent article about illusions and another
about the use of martial arts to increase mana supply and control.

 “Yes, when you dropped that criminal at the convenience
store. I read about it on someone's blog. Did you 'emerge from your cocoon' as
a butterfly or a wasp?”

Eric emerged from his bedroom in dress pants and a nice
collared shirt. “I had frozens,” he protested.

Emily laughed. “And here I thought you were trying to be a
hero!”

Eric shook his head. “I'm no hero; just a mercenary.”

He froze.

“A what?”

“I want my money's worth,” Eric said quickly. “I don't
want to give a month's salary to a punk with a gun, you know?”

“Yeah,” Emily said slowly. “Where'd you learn to do that
anyway?”

“I go to a training hall every week,” Eric answered. “At
first, it was to stay in shape but –”

“Not that; the other thing,” Emily said. “The blogger said
the criminal paused. You ranted about your day, but he didn't shoot you. Why
not?”

Eric shrugged. “I guess he didn't have the guts. The gun
might have been for intimidation.”

Emily stood up angrily. “Eric, do you think I was born
yesterday? You did something!”

“Do you think I have
magic powers
? That's
ridiculous!”

Emily pointed at his computer. For the third time that
day, Eric silently cursed himself. He didn't want anyone to know that he had
real magic. If that happened, he would be constantly bothered for demonstrations.
Then he would run out of juice, be labeled a fraud, and never reach Tariatla.
If he had met that punk any other day, then he might have been able to show
more restraint. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you!” Eric snapped. “You'd
think I was crazy and never speak to me again!”

“You don't know that!” Emily insisted. “I wish you would
tell me the truth!”

Eric was about to retort, when the significance of her
words sank in. “What was that?”

“I said, 'I wish you'd tell me the truth!'”

“It's pretty complicated. A jump-start talk wouldn't work.
It would have to be a heavy-duty explanation.”

“Fine! I want your 'heavy-duty' explanation!”

“That is your wish?” Eric asked.

“Eric, stop delaying! Yes! It is!”

Silence followed and Eric waited. Emily caught her breath.
Waiting, breathing, waiting; Eric never said a word. Emily growled in
impatience and turned around. Eric pleaded for her to stay, but she ignored
him. She stomped out the door and slammed it behind her.

Eric slumped back in the chair as a new funk set in. In
addition to his usual I'm-never-going-home funk, he now had a new
I-drove-away-my-girlfriend funk. He knew it was a long shot, but he was sure
that he could draw Tasio with those words. “Heavy-duty help” was the phrase
Tasio had used before dragging him to Tariatla all those months ago.

Then, he heard a scream.
Emily!
Grabbing his staff
and bag on his way out, he rushed through the door. When he reached the
hallway, he almost dropped them in shock. He couldn't believe his eyes. Here
was the one thing he had been searching for. All his spare time in the last
three months was devoted to tracking and traveling and now he had found it in
his own apartment building. A tall, double-door, golden-brown gate stood
proudly in front of the elevators, and they were closing quickly.

Eric bolted. The gate faded. He pushed himself harder.
I
HAVE TO MAKE IT!
He jumped forward and the gates closed behind him. He was
greeted by the vortex of rainbow light.

It was just as he remembered it; strange visions coating
every surface and flashes of light surging through a tunnel. One of the latter
struck him and he re-lived another part of his first trip; the agonizing pain
of his limbs shrinking. Despite it, his screams and tears were those of joy.
I'm
going home!! I'M GOING HOME!!

Eric woke up in
something warm and furry. He opened his eyes, leaned up, and a blanket fell off
of him. All around him was compacted dirt and thick tree roots. His clothes
were gone and, in their place, was a full bear pelt, roughly tailored into
sleeves and pants. He sniffed and felt a flush of energy. He inhaled deeply and
filled his lungs with mana. It brought tears to his eyes.

 
I'm home! I'm
really home!

“Crimson fire! Grant my
desire! Fireball!”

A sphere of flame
instantly flared into life between his palms. The tears came so fast they
almost put it out. He collapsed the spell between his hands and chanted again
and again and again and again. It felt so
good
to be capable of magic
again! To
taste
the air again and to
feel
mana again!

 I'm home! I'm
really home!

He hit himself in the
head, pinched both his arms, and pulled on his nostrils. The pain and newly
raised bump were the final confirmation he needed.

I'm home! I'm really
home!

“Good; you're awake.”
In the doorway stood a badger. “For a while, I didn't think you were going to
make it.”

“Who are you?”

 “Topit Earthmover. My
parents found you and your friend in the snow.”

“Emily! Is she all right?”

“Yes, she's fine,” Topit
said. “She woke up an hour ago. A funny sort she is; doesn't seem to understand
our language.”

“That's because she's
an Otherworlder.”

Eric couldn't describe
how gratifying it was to say that and to see Topit's understanding nod. Last
time,
he
was the Otherworlder (technically, he still was) and on the
other side of that nod, but never again. This time, he was a native (sort of).

“This way.” Topit
jerked her head to point the direction of his friend.

The passage, made by
and for badgers, was too small for Eric to walk through, so he had to crawl.
Fortunately, the pelt insulated him against the frozen ground. He smelled ash
and roasting meat before he saw the fire.

 At the end of the
tunnel was a larger and taller room. In the center, a fire simmered insects on
spits, and three more badgers were talking around it. On either side of them
were tunnels leading to other rooms, and against the walls were jars with
smoked fish and salted ants. A human girl huddled against one of them. She
looked to be teenaged, had long red hair, and wore the same bear pelt as he did.

“Eric! What's going
on!? There are badgers, fires, my clothes don’t fit anymore, I’m younger –
they're
gonna eat me!
”

Eric fought down his
laughter. Strange location, animals that appeared to be talking, missing
clothes; he had to admit it was a lot to take in. The additional mana in the
air would amplify any panic she felt because it acted as a stimulant in high
enough concentrations. As an Otherworlder, the air itself was above her
tolerance.

“Emily, relax. No one
is going to eat you.”

“That's because you
taste nasty,” the smallest badger said. He was promptly swatted by Topit.

“Ignore my brother.
He's a compulsive liar.”

“Then it's a good thing
my companion can't understand him.” To the parents, he said, “Thank you for
saving us.”

“Don't mention it.”

“Eric! Are you
talking
with
badgers!?
”

“Yes, Emily, I am. You
wanted the heavy-duty explanation, so here it is.”

He began by assuring
her that he had panicked just as much when he first arrived. Then he told her
the story of Noitaerc, the Great Tree that Supports the Worlds, the Sea of
Chaos that nourishes it, and the Cloud of Order that anchors it. He
demonstrated the Three Laws of Magecraft and explained how the differing mana
level between Tariatla and Threa allowed for the possibility of magecraft. With
a gesture to their hosts, he told her that non-humans in this world were just
as sapient as humans and capable of speaking plainly with them. Finally, and
with a healthy dose of scorn, he told her about the one who brought them to
this world.

“Don't say his name!” the
badger family chorused. “He'll fill our den with drunk skunks!”

“This, you should
always remember,” Eric said. “Speak of The Trickster and he shall appear.”

“TASIMMPH!”

“What did I just say?”
Eric asked with his hands over her mouth. “If you say his name right now, he's
more likely to subject us to petty mischief than send you home. You wouldn't
want to disturb our hosts and rescuers, now, would you?”

Emily shook her head.

“Good.” Eric removed
his hands and addressed the badger family. “Please tell me where my staff and
bag are.”

The parent badgers had
a couple's eye-conversation and the father walked into another room. He came
back, dragging Eric's bag in one paw and Emily's purse in the other. Emily
hesitantly accepted her purse, then clutched it to her chest. Eric pulled out a
number of coins and gave them to the father.

“I hope you visit a
human settlement because this is the only way I can repay you.”

“Thank you. Might you
be a mage?”

“Yes, I am.”

Mrs. Earthmover
addressed him next. “We found a piece of wood near you that we assumed from its
runes to be a staff. When I picked it up, you shook violently, as if in pain,
so I placed it back in the snow. We can guide you to it.”

“I would appreciate
that.”

“I'm coming too!” Emily
shouted.

Her shout was so loud
it shook a clump of snow loose and into the chimney. It would have drowned the
fire if not for a quick air spell from the missus. This startled the poor girl
so much she jumped up and hit her head on the ceiling. Then she screamed again
and inch-wormed out the nearest tunnel. Again, Eric bit his lip to hold in his
laughter. The younger badger didn't bother and, for this, he was swatted again
by his sister.  

Mr. Earthmover guided
Eric through the tunnel Emily used. It turned left and right but otherwise
remained straight with no detours. It wasn't long until he felt a winter
breeze. The lodge had been cozy, but this stretch felt like it was in direct
wind chill. Emily was outside, spinning in circles.

“Did you know she would
panic?”

Mr. Earthmover grinned.
“You are not the first Otherworlders we pulled out of the snow.”

Outside the den, the
world was a glistening white. Snow was everywhere and as peaceful and smooth as
the icing on a cake. Eric scooped out a handful and pushed it into his mouth;
it was just as sweet too. After months in a dry world, even frozen water tasted
wonderful. Mr. Earthmover advised him to show restraint or he would die of
hypothermia. Eric ignored him and dived into a snow bank.

He ate his way through
to the other side. The snow melted in his mouth and sloshed down his throat,
and a rush of energy flooded his body. He laughed, shouted, and smiled ecstatically.
By the time Mr. Earthmover pulled him out, he was groaning of brain freeze and
shivering.

Hesitantly, Emily
picked up a small bit and plopped it in her mouth. A smile bloomed on her face
and she grabbed a bigger piece and was soon groaning alongside Eric. Mr.
Earthmover handed them each one of the salted insects and they felt warmer in
seconds.

“What were those?” Eric
asked.

“We call them ‘furnace
roaches,’ but I suspect you humans call them something else.”

Eric nodded. He took
stock of his surroundings and his joy gave away to confusion. Geography wasn't
his best subject, but he was pretty sure there weren't any stand-alone
mountains near Roalt. The closest thing was Mount Fiol in the southeast, but
that was the home of Fire's Avatar and a volcano. It was snow-free all
year-round. The Yacian Mountain range in the east was steeper than this and had
more monsters. So far, he hadn't seen another living being except for the
Earthmover family and Emily.

“Mr. Earthmover, where
are we?”

“Mount Takij, near the
human settlement of Mambi.”

That is not in the
least bit helpful...
“Do you know how to get to Ataidar from here?”

“Ataidar? What's that?”

Eric screamed. He was
in Tariatla, that much was certain, but had no idea how to get to home. After
he caught his breath, he asked about the Yacian Mountains, and Kyraa, and
Najica, but the badger didn't know any of them.
Two steps forward, one step
back...
He muttered dark things about tricksters.

“What's going on?”
Emily asked.

Eric answered with his
head in his hands. “We're being toyed with by a pointy-eared sadist.”

He muttered more dark
things and recited Tasio’s less flattering nicknames as oaths while the
Earthmovers guided him to his landing zone. With every step, he could feel his
staff growing closer. When at last it came into view, he jogged the rest of the
way. When he grabbed it, it pulsed.

The staff warmed his
hands and his spirit. A mage's staff was as dear to them as their own arms and
legs, and would eventually become them. Eric had seen it happen with senior
mages. Their bond erased the physical barrier and they acted as one being. It
was taboo to touch a mage's staff and a felony offense to steal one. Eric
closed his eyes and held his staff next to his heart.

“Should we leave you
two alone?” Emily asked. Eric coughed, blushed, and insisted that wasn't
necessary. “So that's your wizard staff?”

“
Mage
, not
wizard. Someone who practices the craft of
mag
ic. A chemist uses
chemicals, a violinist uses a violin, I use mana.”

“So it was magic that
you used on that criminal...”

“Technically, that
wasn't magic because I wasn't using mana.”

“Then what was it?”
Emily asked impatiently.

“Have you ever been so
scared you thought you'd go insane?” Eric asked in reply. “Have you ever hated
someone so much you wanted to kill them?”

Emily slowly shook her
head.

“You're lucky. I am
not. However, anyone I wish will share my pain.”

“Are you saying you
have an ‘evil eye’? This is all really weird, but that explanation is just
too...”

Eric locked eyes with
Emily. Hers dilated, her breath caught in her throat, and her whole body froze.
Eric blinked and Emily shivered.

“Sh-shadow...” she muttered.
“Cold...looming...shadow...”

Her face was pale and her
eyes dull. Eric chanted a ball of fire into his hand and she instinctively
moved closer to its heat. Only after several moments in its warmth did her eyes
focus.

“What was that?”

“The three worst days
of my life. You don't want to hear about that.”

On the way back to the
badger den, Eric continued to explain the rules of magic. Emily was more
accepting of his explanation this time and asked questions when confused. Most
of them involved the distinction between the Fireball spell and the Evil Eye.
In response, Eric recited passages from
The Spirit and Its Power
.

“Living creatures – that
is, those possessed of a mind, body, and soul – are the Three Founding Gods put
together; like Chaos, they have the power to change the world. Like Order, they
have the power to direct the change, and like Noitearc, they can harmonize the
two. This is what we call ‘magecraft.’ Another art, that which is only the
Order aspect, is what is called ‘spiritcraft.’ Only the force of one’s spirit
is used. This makes it a useful technique for non-mages because it does not
require mana.”

Well done…
the voice
said.
For a monkey! For even the zombies, devoid of true intelligence, could
memorize my work word for word.

Again, Eric shook his
head.
The Spirit and Its Power
was also written by Dengel. Together with
Introduction to Magecraft
, it represented the totality of his magical
knowledge. His hand drifted to his pack and the notes for his mana experiments.

There’s one thing I
know that he doesn’t! There’s no way he could have conducted such
experiments…he didn’t have the opportunity. Ordercraft wasn’t practiced here
until the Conversion War and so there –

“Eric!” Emily said. She
shook his shoulder. “We’re literally in another world and you’re still drifting
off into another one.”

Eric smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry.”
 

As they walked, they
saw someone else in the snow. It was a human slightly taller than Eric. She
wore a cloak that was frozen in parts, a heavy snowsuit, a fur-trimmed hood,
goggles, and snow pants. Just barely visible was green hair streaked with
irregular patches of golden-brown.

“Kallen! It's wonderful
to see you again!” Eric trudged through the snow to greet her. Relief and joy
grew inside him with each step. “What are you doing here?!”

“I could ask you the
same thing.”

“I see you're still
dodging questions.”

“I see you're still
aiming them.”

Without warning, Kallen
hugged him. The intense feelings of peace and warmth this action generated
filled him up and down and deep into his soul. If he could miss anything as
much as mana or Annala, then it was the mysterious feeling generated by
Kallen's presence.  

“Eric, who is this
girl?” Emily asked coldly. “And why is she hugging you?”

“Eric's my BF,” Kallen
said and nuzzled Eric's nose. “You know: best friend.”

Emily glared. “How do
you know Eric?” It was hardly threatening with her pink cheeks.

“We fought together in
a palace coup.”

“You mean we fought
against
each other in a palace coup.”

Kallen cackled and Eric
face-palmed. If there was anyone as twisted as Tasio the Trickster, it was his
favorite follower, Kallen Selios. She helped Eric gain confidence in himself
and defended Ataidar's Crown from a usurper, but she had a mischievous way of
doing things. It was too similar to Tasio himself for his taste.