Part Three – The Past
He listened some more as intelligence rolled in. He looked over the round map set on the stone tablet set in center of the domed room. He had built the room to be similar to the architecture of map room in original Heroes' Guild. The sandstones were bright and home felt, lit by cheery crimson diamond set in torches, mimicking the flames perfectly, going as far as to emit aura similar to dancing flame.
He had first checked out his castle in the map. He was sited at edge of mountain, set against steep side, overlooking Brightwood City in its splendor, the province that once contained Darkwood and Greatwood in past era of Heroes.
He gestured and the map zoomed in at his castle until the dots and status display could be seen. His whole garrison was under full barricade. Because he discovered the Minions disguised as balverines, the figures similar to minions of Jack of Blades. That was why the losses had suddenly increased. Half of his own surviving party fell to double-bladed staves and minion's magic before he slain the last of the attacking group and sealed themselves into the Chamber of Map. Minions were very high level of summoning. Someone was directing this huge tide, but was not commanding. Nobody can command balverines, can only guide their bloodlust very much like he guided Albion into new height of prosperity.
Now the maelstrom threatened Albion, threatening what he built.
His ears perked at the howls from below. They were sharper and heavier than normal. Silver balverines were more cunning, stronger, and tougher as talented leaders of balverines. He could sense them climbing lithely upon the interior wall from underneath the elevator, catching up at prodigious rate. He felt a pang of impatience because it seemed that the elevator was slowing down intentionally. He dispelled the pang as just a blurred thought from contrast against such Silvers' speed. There were so many of them. Dismay would have struck down any spellwarrior beside the General. The attack would be massed more than any previous attacks so far as Silvers were more coordinated.
He readied the sword, flexing his heavily muscled forearm. He breathed through his fear, remembering fear are good for sharpening your attention and conditions.
He looked up and caught the blue, green, and red glows of descending nymphs. He sensed their magic waves that rippled for assault.
But he smiled. He felt better now. Before hearing Demon Dragon's voice, kaleidoscope of pain and emptiness was paramount, even as he fought his way here. The absence of warmth was his only thoughts, his own inner balance against harsh cruel world outside. The dragon's voice, instead of confusing him as the intent, focused his world. He was finally able to think and to innovate again, to be the person he loved most to be. He is the General.
Or Legend, the unintended result of his efforts.
At Heroes' Guild, he had joined amidst the steady stream of candidates. Only Guildmaster noticed the quiet intensity burning deep within the dark emerald eyes. His form, small for his age, served as excellent contrast to his eyes as he stood beside his short kindly father.
Over his shoulder was two only items he would be allowed to own within the Guild. It was a book within a burlap bag. Guildmaster requested to see it. Mind Penetration was simple inscription on the spine as Guildmaster took it from two small hands. Flicking through the book uncovered the simple yet elegant sentences and topics detailing how mind can work and how one can learn about oneself through practicing the life and through learning can deal with people in bad or good ways. It was written by famous philosopher who trained and traveled with a Hero.
Impressed, Guildmaster handed the book back.
"I take it that you are the one who asked for apprenticeship?" Guildmaster's quiet easy voice directed the question at him. He stood there, very composed for his age, as the father looked down at him.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I will learn best about myself here."
Guildmaster made pleasant thoughtful sound through his mustache, "That you can." Guildmaster then turned his attention to portly stout father beside. The father and Guildmaster had known each other. The father was a merchant that managed from rise out of poverty at very young age. In few minutes, Guildmaster bade him to go and see the Administrator. He walked through the indicated doors and heard the last word from the father to Guildmaster, the word that changed his world.
"…adopted."
Dark blood streaked through air as the Silver and nymphs were flung in direction axial to the origin of Force Push. The sheer power of it reverberated as heavy rumble through the circular elevator, the air, and the wall. The light on the circle flickered. The echoes barely faded as silver shapes flashed up the wall and sprang at him. He already moved with two efficient steps and his greatsword sweeping down. One arc cut through three. A twirl brought new arc upward to dismember four that landed in nearly neat order or sailing through midair. A couple back step brought his blade, seeping and trailing gore, through four and then fifth one in midair in a curving line. A blue ball of light landed and the huge icicles spiked through two silver furs, missing him as he leaped away and slashed two more open. A lightning sparked in unbridled fury and forked several nymphs during their stage of releasing their magic globes. Their bodies plummeted down through the gap and exploded, lancing through several balverines and disorienting others. He used double spells in lightning by killing a target then implanting a booby trap composed of bomb. All tricks needed to shave off the tide.
The Circle had grown weaker with increasing height, sagging under numerous Silvers that were twice his height. So it tipped ponderously back and forth, following the heaviest assembly. Some heart-stopping moments had him dancing at the edge, taking maximum advantage of little traction to dodge scrabbling claws and diving bodies. He usually ended these moments by stepping on and leaping off the sliding bodies.
He slipped, slid several meters, and regained his balance for umpteenth time, taking down more of slavering balverines in another swing of sword. He had managed to figure out the trick to curve the trajectory while sliding, very much like ice skating. The blood was slicking the surface and the untouched sections looked more like several puddles. It was treacherous for normal footwork so he was already into his new style of footwork. He called it skating. It brought him back to the time when he first learned to ice skate with the girl he loved during a winter honeymoon.
Once in a while, he would jam the sword point into the Circle and stacked several lightning spells and eject vast static impulse to electrify the Circle so any attempt to climb from bottom would be electrocuted in colorful display. And the claws, paws, the tapered muscular body of fur, and glowing eyes were flung away, sometimes separate or intact. He stacked several fireball spells that blazed two dozens into smithereens that fluttered back into the gap.
Instinct flexed his body, shaking his center of gravity loose from hold, as huge force smote his back and screech of Shield protested. He spun before the culprit could get out of his range. The culprit's head fell away and the dark fluid gouted from severed neck before a tip of Circle carted it over the edge. The contacts with Shield were becoming more frequent and costlier than casting. Amidst the noise of scribbling and cleaving, he discerned a peculiar splash that sounded too close and too metallic. He glanced down to see dark fluid that was not his on his chest, already dripping off the hem. His Shield was down.
A little potion time and a bit of Recharge. He slipped a finger-long vial out of his vambrace and swallowed it and crunched the crystalline structure made of fruit cellulose, rendering it edible and healthy. The blue fluorescent liquid went down his gullet. He concentrated and enacted the spell that went deep into himself and stroked the Will energy that flowed through his body network like a bloodstream. The penumbra of blueness spread from his chest as the potion and the spell did their work. He felt refreshed mentally as if the headache was gone.
The blue aura came forth from his body, dark against the wall and under little light, enveloping him in protective shell once more. And he moved to dodge a vicious swipe and parried another with a flat of his blade and riposted, opening three jugulars in one.
The whole recharge took only a split second as he trained for hundred hours.
Recharge was his invention after his lengthy research when he was just twelve. It was a unique spell to amplify the restoration of Will energy during potion intake. With this he could separate the regular Will potion into vials. Each vial with a Recharge spell will restore several times the amount that a single potion could.
"What will you do as a Hero?" The teacher made this rhetoric during a class lecture.
Later on, his serious eyes glassed over, seeking through webs of thoughts in distance. "I always been thinking about it since I joined," he confided as a Historian sat in library chair and willingly listened, "Only solutions came. I can always give them something. The big factors in success are the chemistry of relationship, the knowledge, the wisdom, and the interpretations. All will be expressed in actions and words."
"The bottom line is…," the Historian prodded in soft tone.
"It's me I need to purify first. So I can see unclouded. Then I will need something to keep me purified, to keep me going, to be a kind of Hero I desire."
He moved and stared deep into the historian's eyes. The Historian shivered with thrill as always as she discerned quiet intense energy burning behind his dark green eyes.
"I need a code."
The blood would dry as Force Push cleared off the wetness so the friction would be better. Then more dismembered bodies would fall and more liquid would pour slickness again. The humming rose to breaking point as the Circle flipped over, remaining supported by supernatural forces concentrated at its center.
Everyone immediately moved to take advantage when its edge was at the highest, where the land was narrowest and Silvers thought themselves stronger in flight. He naturally had upper hand there, predicting its tipping rhythm like erratic pendulum. He used it to full effect, standing on the edge and blasting either side with stacks of lightning and fireballs that thundered and exploded, chipping off the weathered walls. The world lit up with yellow and orange and blue kaleidoscope. The Circle capsized completely, presenting untarnished side, and he reverted back to fresh footwork relying on traction once more as more enemies thumped and flew.
He had to widen his eyes to see well. Things became harder to see. The light was fading. Another Force Push wiped the slate, enforcing the lull he needed to look up. A dark rift imposed itself in midair above him, expanding until it touched the wall on all sides. The swirl of dark colors stirred like milk and chocolate mix within the rift.
The Circle rose inexorably toward it. He brought his sword to ready stance and lowered it to relaxed causalness. The Silver Balverines were fleeing, chased by horror of their own fear. There were no more howls. The nymphs had disappeared. The Circle balanced itself with an evident relief that was so heartfelt that he restrained the chuckle.
The distance shrunk steadily between him and the black portal, which he recognized as. Finally, he knew he arrived. It didn't feel like passing through the gate. It was like having the world changed upon him. The purple wind coalesced from nowhere and, visible by cloud-like streams, gusted through him in consistent direction, turning the world purple and black. He watched as the wall around him inverted itself as if a god's hand was turning the hourglass of world upside down. The structure had turned queer, always flowing between liquid and solid state so it was consistently in the middle, losing the color until they turn black forms. It was like seeing the brick wall covered and shimmered in fire.
He looked down. The Circle was gone. In its place was great circular floor with great weathered pillars at edge. He looked up.
Standing there in malevolent miasma was an extremely powerful Lich.
A Hero was never without somebody at his back and his side. He will always need competent men and women at his beck. Therefore, at age ten, he recognized the need for creating formidable organization as excellent support. Years later, he hadn't yet put it into operation.
The sprout of foundation had begun budding when the passing Guildmaster eyed the mug as he read the spell books and dissecting the spell backward and detailing it.
Guildmaster said, "Heard you been drinking the whole month's supply of that, my boy." In just few days, the Guildmaster did not add. His quill paused as he looked up. Guildmaster nodded toward the mug. It was half full of lukewarm herbal tea stirred with soy milk and honey.
"The cook is in despair and blames you for stealing too much."
"Just call it a vice. I will see what I can do," he smiled as he sipped. The herb assisted and supplemented his sight and brain and body flow, especially the Will energy. The herb looked like flower with weed-like stem but was not a flower. Its steaming smell and tastiness attracted him most.
As Guildmaster proceeded on, harummphing thoughtfully, he suddenly paused midway to setting the mug down as a thought struck him. He grinned and returned to his study.
On next day, the cook found several boxes with a note on it: Just keep it coming to the library and I will supply more and here is the receipt from whom you will recognize. Cook scratched the head and commented on how in world did he come here and leave them here without leaving any trace. Cook read the receipt and nearly swallowed the tongue. The receipt was written from the legendary chef.
"How by the ripe meat does the boy have such pull?"
The huge Lich, easily twice his height, withdrew a ghastly broadsword. The Sword of the Dead absorbed all light and created the black light darker than shadow. It shrieked in way of dark Will energy. And the army of the dead rose and climbed their way out of the ground, surrounding and crowding upon him.
The Lich voice was hissing guttural, grinding of granite set at higher pitch but retaining the ability to make skin crawl, "You, the legendary General, have a plan. Made with contingencies you had set in advance, with resources you had stockpiled. Somewhere on this tower, the plan should be instigated."
Legend drew in a breath and propped himself on the knee. His two gleaming emeralds suffused with luminous Will power contested with two bright bloodthirsty lights in sockets.
"Draw it out if you can. Stop it if you can." He said.
The Lich nodded once, "You have Summoning ability similar to legendary Jack of Blade, may the devil bless his soul. You are able to summon your own legionnaires, the powerful soldiers equal to or perhaps greater than minions of Jack of Blade. You had never used it once here. Therefore, you are a key to your own plan here. I shall strip it from you."
The day of graduation from apprenticeship into full-fledged Hero was over.
The willowy Historian approached the taller hulk figure on stony veranda. She leaned on the fence as she watched the panorama of garden and forest. The red dying burst of sunset sparkled the horizon and the mountains.
After few minutes as silence between them became more comfortable, she turned and was startled as he turned his head toward her. A door had locked itself behind his eyes, hiding the fire that burned. They became the eyes of adult. They became the eyes that had seen sorrow, pain, and joy and became the mirrors that reflected any seer's spirit.
A few weeks ago, he had mysteriously vanished on an adventure. Few days ago, he came back vastly matured and more confident. His pace of growth had once more flabbergasted everyone who had come to rely on him during his stay. She sadly reflected that she was going to miss the days when his eyes blazed with such inner intensity.
"Have you established your code?" She said softly, aware she was being more than fond of him.
His genuine smile warmed her. "Yes. That shall be my secret forever. If someone figured it out, I shall neither confirm nor deny it."
Soon, the Historian knew, he will be a living legend. She decided at that spot that she will be at his side forever as part of his hidden organization or separate. After all, he was going to be the greatest.
A/N: Not much character development here, I am afraid. I wasn't aiming for anything at all. I was just writing to impress with this character. The next chapter titled The Crucible, shall reveal way more, including the conflicts that beset him and harsh lessons he learned. Perhaps, you will come to like him. And the plan the General have in his mind. Mystique could be way better if I just put more effort into it. Please review on how I did in this chapter.
By the way, Lich is an idea i heard about from World of Warcraft even though I never played it. My definition of Lich for this story is an undead that rose above other in Will power, so high that it gains complex intelligence equal to any human or a Hero and become steeped in casting. Only high-level Hero ancient in age and experience and talents could have a chance of defeating it. Lich does not have much experience in subtle as they are birthed with supernatural level of Will power and never socialize much. Therefore, they are direct and have tendenacy to give away what they are about to do. Looking this way, they are extremely smart instead of stupid because they can make you feel repulsed, so much that you rather give them what they want instead of suffering. No normal villager can withstand a Lich. Or would you rather have the Lich's rotting but gooey muscles flapping themselves at you, insanefully groveling in its power, greedy for very life force within you so you will be dead by time he finished sucking it from you? Oh by the way, the Lich absorbs everything alive so the flower will wither where they walk, including the human flesh. So be careful to not let them touch you. Oh did I mention they can move abnormally fast or cast elemental spells to bind you or something?