Something cold and clammy pressed itself gently against Asterix's forehead, and he instinctively tried to push it away. But when he raised a hand to do so, his limb felt as heavy as lead, refusing to function the way he wanted. He felt that same cold touch shift to take careful hold of his wrist, forcing it carefully back down onto...whatever he was lying on. Asterix became aware that everything was terribly dark around him, and for a moment he almost panicked. But then he realized that the reason was that his eyes were closed. Funny. He didn't remember falling asleep. But it was time to wake up now, he was sure; and so, groggily, he forced his eyes to open.

It was far harder to do than he would have expected. Like his lids were being weighed down; heavy and uncooperative. When he finally did manage to raise them, his winced painfully at the sudden brightness the action caused to suddenly shine in his eyes. He tried to block the light with his hand, but again it refused to cooperate. He blinked furiously, finding his sight blurry and unfocused. All he could see was a shifting mess of colors and light, and even that was beyond what the smaller Gaul felt he could handle at the moment. Asterix discovered he had a most terrific headache; the kind that settles right behind your eyes. It pounded away in his skull, like the beat of a drum, and it took him a moment to realize it was his own heartbeat he was hearing.

A voice that seemed painfully loud erupted beside him. "Getafix! Look, he's waking up!"

"Shh!" Came another, far softer than the first. "Not so loud. If he feels half as bad as I do, he's not going to appreciate too much noise."

It was Getafix's voice, the little Gaul concluded. But why was...? Suddenly, everything came back to him with a rush. The old woman; Getafix's return; the stranger; the spell; and that horrible pain. With a jolt, Asterix became fully conscious and attempted to sit up. It was more of a floundering motion, since his legs felt oddly numb, but the little Gaul was bound and determined to move. Again a cold hand latched onto him, but this time it helped him up rather than held him down. The blur beside him was white, testifying that it was indeed the village druid.

"Now, take it easy, Asterix," Getafix warned gently. His voice carried with it an immense amount of concern. "You are going to feel a little numb at first. Just relax; it will fade shortly."

"What...What happened?" Asterix croaked. His throat was very dry, making it feel even more rough than it already did. He became aware of how sore he was; all over. It felt as if he had been badly beaten; bruised and battered. As he finally made it to a sitting position, his eyes started to come into focus; slowly. He looked carefully about him, not too surprised to find himself still within the druid's hut. What he did find surprising was that almost the entire population of the village appeared to be congregated around the room, all looking very concerned. Even the women and children were present. It left very little space, but they all had managed to squeeze in, somehow. The blond Gaul turned his questioning eyes back to Getafix.

"I...I remember the stranger," Asterix recalled haltingly, "And...and what he did. Then there was a...bright flash." He attempted to raise his hand to his head and was relieved to find that he was a little more successful than before. "Why can't I seem to move right?"

Getafix nodded from his seat on the side on the cot. "Mastix had you in some sort of paralyzing spell. It is not permanent, thank Toutatis, but it will take several moments to wear off." The druid leaned forward and felt the little Gaul's forehead once more. He shook his head. "You have got a bit of a temperature too. But that should also fade. How do you feel otherwise?"

Asterix shifted on the sheets uncomfortably. "Sore." But then he remembered that he hadn't been the only one to be attacked. He sat up straighter, focusing completely on his friend. "Getafix, are you hurt?! That man used the spell on you as well!"

"I'm fine, Asterix," the druid assured, "Though a I think I may have pulled a muscle or two. It seems that Mastix didn't hit me as hard as he did you." His voice carried a tone of anger at that. And it seemed to be true. The druid appeared to be perfectly mobile now, though perhaps a little stiff. The stranger must have held back with Getafix, not wanting to kill him; but with Asterix he had let loose, surging as much power into the spell as possible.

Asterix looked down at himself, noting the dark, black and purple bruises that checkered his bare arms. He touched them gingerly with a wince. He looked up to give the rest of the villagers an encouraging smile, trying to ease their worry that showed so strongly in their expressions. Asterix suddenly noted that someone was missing.

"Where's Obelix?" Not knowing where his friend was frightened Asterix badly. He couldn't remember all that had happened with the stranger, and he was all at once very scared that something might have happened to his big companion. Obelix would have been the first to be at his side otherwise.

Getafix allayed his fears quickly however. "I sent him to go fetch a few ingredients I need. I am sure you are experiencing a rather unpleasant headache?"

Asterix nodded, regretting it immediately. The motion only succeeded in making his head pound harder.

"As am I." The druid ran a hand over his face tiredly. "That is why I sent Obelix. He was very worried about you, and he needed something to keep him busy. He should be back any-"

"Asterix!"

As if on cue, the Gauls had to make a quick path as Obelix came barreling through the door. His arms were full of several stalks of some strange, bush-like plant that was known to grow on the Eastern side of the village. He dumped the load of greenery into Fulliautomatix's arms, running forward to stand beside the bed. He lay a gentle hand on Asterix's shoulder, mindful of the bruises. His eyes were full of concern, searching his friend over as if he expected to find some frightful injury.

"Asterix, you're...you're alright?"

The little Gaul gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Obelix; just a little tired."

Obelix didn't seem convinced. Asterix looked terrible; what with him being as pale as he was, and the dark circles under his eyes. The bruising marks on his arms only increased his exhausted, haggard look, making Obelix wish that there was something he could do to get rid of them. The big Gaul remained where he was, continuing to keep his hand rested on his friend's shoulder. It was as if he believed that, if he were to let go, Asterix would fade away altogether.

The little Gaul glanced back to their druid, who had already taken the herbs from Fulliautomatix and brought them over to his cauldron in the fireplace. He noticed with relief that Getafix had regained the use of his legs; though he still seemed a little slow and unsteady. But he saw that the druid had been correct; Getafix seemed far less affected by the stranger's spell than Asterix himself had been. The younger Gaul was more spent; drained.

"How long was I out?," was the next question that came to Asterix's lips.

"A-about an hour," Vitalstitistix spoke up from the group. The look of guilt on his face was unmistakable. In fact, every one of the Gauls looked absolutely miserable. They all felt horrible that Asterix had been hurt so badly, especially since the way they had treated him the day before. It had been torture to see their friend so helpless; struck down for their sake. They could never repay that. They could never repay anything Asterix had ever done for them. The little warrior always put their needs before his own. Always put his safety at risk, just so they could be secure. Asterix had been their hero again and again, for years...and they had treated him as if he were nothing but a bother; a nuisance. It took a disaster like this to make them remember how important Asterix was to them. And of that they were truly ashamed.

Asterix seemed disturbed by the fact that he had been unconscious for so long. So much time had been wasted. There was no doubt in the blond Gaul's mind that this Mastix fellow would return, and if their first meeting was anything to go by, Asterix knew they were all in great danger. The side of him that was the village's warrior stepped forward, pushing his needs aside. He shifted himself on the bed until his legs were dangling over the edge, preparing to test his ability to stand. The reaction of his fellow Gauls was immediate. They all rushed to stop him, quickest of all being Obelix.

"Asterix," Getafix chided firmly, coming forward and taking hold of his arm to keep him from getting up. "You are not yet recovered enough to leave this cot." His voice was firm; demanding, but his expression was softer, begging Asterix not to push himself too far before he was ready.

But Asterix refused to cater to his own needs. "Getafix, we don't have time," the smaller Gaul contended; though he made no more attempts to rise. "We have to find a way to defend ourselves against this intruder, before he returns." The others reluctantly agreed.

"But what I don't understand," Fulliautomatix spoke up, "Is why he targeted our druid. I mean, a man as powerful as he obviously is, what use would he have for the Magic Potion?"

Getafix seemed to cringe slightly at the question. He had never mentioned Mastix to anyone; not since he had come to the village all those years ago. Only those in the Carnutes knew about the man, and Getafix had purposefully kept any knowledge of the dark druid a secret from his Gaulish friends. The sinister days of the Druidic past had no place in the light-filled world of the innocent Gauls. But now, that could no longer be the case. That same darkness that had shadowed Getafix's life thirty-five years ago, had found him once more; and the villagers were now as involved in this as he was. And, no matter how much Getafix wished that wasn't the case, there was no way to change it. Not now.

"Mastix and I...knew one another," the druid responded slowly, returning to his bubbling cauldron.

"What do you mean?" Unhygenix asked.

Getafix gazed into the boiling water, ripping up a few of the herbs Obelix had brought and throwing them in. "He and I were both apprenticed under the some mentor. He and I...grew up together." He could feel the surprise coming from the others behind his back. Getafix had known that the news would come as rather a shock to them; he had expected that.

Vitalstitistix voiced what they were all thinking. "You...you mean you two were friends?!"

"No!"

All the villagers flinched, having not expected the druid to answer so harshly. Getafix regretted it immediately. He was letting his emotions take control of him again. Just like they used to, back in the Carnutes. Mastix had shaken the very foundations of his life then, and he was doing so again. Getafix turned to face them, looking them all in the eyes.

"No. Mastix and I were never friends." He lowered his gaze to the herb in his hands, studying it as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "Mastix was often unkind to me, as well as many of the other apprentices. He craved power, and was willing to commit a most terrible crime to do so." He paused, expecting, as well as dreading, that one of the Gauls would ask what that crime had been. Thankfully, no one did. Perhaps they were able to tell how hard a subject this was for their druid, and didn't want to cause him anymore discomfort. "Mastix was banished; forced to leave the Carnutes, never to use his power again in our midst."

"But that still doesn't explain why he came here. And why he wants the potion," Fulliautomatix observed. He had his wife standing beside him, and he was lightly griping the shoulders of his little son and daughter. All the Gauls were beginning to look quite frightened.

Getafix sighed. "He is here because, after years of trying to be the best, he has failed. Among the druids," here he appeared rather embarrassed, "I am the most renowned..."

"Because of the Magic Potion," Asterix finished. Everything was starting to make sense.

"Exactly. Mastix wants to be at the top, but he can't because I'm in his way. He still thinks that he can redeem himself somehow. If he has the Magic Potion, there will be nothing to stop him from being the best." Getafix looked to Asterix worriedly. "And he won't let anything,...or anyone, stand between him and that goal."

The Gauls all lowered their eyes, knowing that those words were a direct warning to Asterix himself. Of all of them, everyone knew the little Gaul would fight this new threat. Of all of them, he would be the most opposition to Mastix. Next to Getafix, Asterix was most at risk. A hush fell over the interior of the hut.

Asterix gazed around at his friends' downcast faces. Their expressions tugged at his heart, making him wish there was some way to fix this whole mess. At the moment, he had no idea how to do anything of the kind. But what he did know was that they couldn't give up.

"We can fight this," Asterix said encouragingly. The others lifted their eyes to look at him. "We've faced problems, and troubles, and disaster, but we've never given up. Caesar has tried; Gracchus Armisurplus has tried; Commander Spacious* has tried; but they have never been able to defeat us. If we stay together, we can win. We can overcome any obstacle when there's hope and a will." To prove his point, Asterix pushed himself up off the bed, standing unsteadily to his feet. Obelix reached out to give him support, but Asterix gently turned his offer down. He regained his balance, finally standing on his own two feet, albeit a little shakily. He smiled at his friends, nodding in confidence. "We can win."

The little Gaul's courage and enthusiasm spread to the villagers like a warming glow. It was true; they had faced many dangers together. Times got tough, especially when you were nothing but a small, isolated village in a world where everyone wanted you wiped off the face of the Earth. They were more of a family than a village. They looked after one another; worked to ensure each other's safety. They had never let anything defeat them before, and they were determined not to let anything defeat them in the future. If Asterix, after almost being killed by that...that madman, was able to stand there with hope in his heart, then so could they.

Getafix looked on in pride. He sometimes forgot how brave Asterix truly was; how calm, even in the face of danger. It was rare when the little Gaul had to confront a villain as monstrous and sinister as Mastix. In fact, Getafix doubted Asterix had ever been pitted against such a formidable foe. They had always had magic on their side, and there was little Caesar or anyone else could do against that. But this was different. This was magic against magic; and Mastix was strong. It would be a struggle; one that Getafix prayed wouldn't end in tragedy.

"So," Asterix asked, turning to the druid. "What do we do now?"

Getafix passed him a small beaker of the contents from his cauldron with a chuckle. "Well, first I would recommend you drink this. It will help with the pain." Asterix opened his mouth to protest, but Getafix cut him off. "And don't bother denying it. You are in pain, and you know it. Now, drink."

Asterix complied, taking note that the druid drank some as well. The potion was warm, and Asterix could feel it slide all the way down his throat. He felt almost immediate relief; his head and other hurts returning a little closer to normal.

"First things first," Getafix continued, "We must make sure Mastix doesn't get what he wants."

"Which is the Magic Potion," Vitalstitistix added.

"Right. I have not made any recently, since I was away. There is none for him to take..." Getafix suddenly looked a little ill. "...Except for that which Asterix carries."

All eyes turned to the small, green gourd that hung from Asterix's belt.

"Mastix will be looking for the potion, either by returning, or by using his magic," Getafix continued slowly. "He will discover that our warrior is in possession of the only amount available and..." He looked even more ill. "Asterix..."

The blond Gaul already knew what the druid was thinking. He took the container from his side, clutching it in his hands as if he were reluctant to let it go. "Getafix, I won't let Mastix-"

"No, Asterix" the druid said firmly. "I will not allow you to be put in danger just because a bit of potion is in your care. Mastix will find out. Then your life wouldn't be worth one denarius...Pour it out."

A gasp went up from the gathered villagers. They all knew how important that small amount of potion had always proved to be in the past. It was often the item that saved them in their most desperate hour. To take that away was like pulling the safety net out from underneath a performing acrobat. It was taking away just another small fraction of their chance of survival. But Getafix was right. They couldn't let Mastix have what he wanted. Asterix having the potion would only endanger them all, but especially Asterix. It may be that, this time, it would be their undoing rather than their salvation.

Asterix looked at the gourd in his hands. It was worn from years of use; having been carried with him on every adventure he had ever set out on. It was something that Asterix had always relied on; always there no matter what. Even in their darkest hours, it had been that one, little advantage that always made a huge difference. And now, Getafix was telling him to throw it away. The very thought of not having it made Asterix worried and nervous. But he trusted the druid's judgement; and so, unscrewing the cap and tipping the gourd, Asterix poured its contents onto the hut's dirt floor. The dust sucked up the greenish-gold liquid, until every last drop was drained.

Asterix let the empty gourd fall to the floor. They all looked at it, as if it foretold of how everything was going to turn out in the end. A small amount of their despair returned; even Asterix felt it this time. It was always very frightening when they didn't have any Magic Potion. The last time, they had very nearly come to disaster*. But Asterix knew that their courage was just as strong as any potion, and that was what they would have to rely on now.

"We can do this," the little Gaul stated once more, eyes still locked on the gourd. He smiled, raising them to Getafix. "Besides, we have a druid of our own. The best druid, no less. Mastix may find we're a little more of a challenge than he first thought."

Getafix grinned at the compliment. "I will see what I can do to prevent Mastix from doing any more harm. I am certain there must be a spell sufficient to do so in here somewhere." He gestured to the shelves of hand-written manuscripts around him; his collection of spells.

"What about the spell you used on Mastix earlier?" Cacofonix spoke up. He had been so quiet up until now, most had forgotten he was even there.

Getafix blinked in confusion. "Earlier?"

"Yes. When Asterix was freed from Mastix's spell. The bright flash of golden light."

Their druid's face became clouded with confusion. In truth, Getafix had been so concerned for Asterix that he hadn't really paid all that much attention to the event at the time. But now, as he thought back, he realized that the bard was right. There had been a powerful explosion of bright, golden light. But it had most certainly not come from him.

"That was not me," Getafix confessed, "Though I wish I could say it was."

"Then what was it?" Impedimenta asked. Though she had not been there at the time, all the women had been informed of the mornings events. She was quite concerned, as were the rest of the womenfolk.

"I do not know." Getafix ran a hand down his beard in thought. "It's possible that Mastix's spell somehow redirected. That could happen, if it was an unsteady sort of spell. It could slip, much like your foot can shift beneath you and throw off your balance. That might do the trick. But Mastix's spell appeared to be quite stable..."

"Well, whatever the reason, it's in the past," Asterix chimed in. They had wasted enough time. They had to find a way to defend themselves before Mastix decided to pay another visit. "We need to get to work. Getafix, Obelix and I will assist you." The little Gaul turned to the others. "The rest of you go and find something to keep your minds off this whole matter." The Gauls seemed reluctant to leave. "I promise I'll come and get you the moment we find a solution," Asterix promised.

The villagers nodded. Asterix's word was good enough for them. Shuffling out the door, they headed off to attend to their usual, daily chores. Asterix, Obelix, and Getafix remained.

"Alright," the blond Gaul announced. "Let's get to it."

Deep within the recesses of the forest outside the village, darkness seemed to reside in one particular clearing. A black, depressing mist that blocked out the rays of the summer sun like a veil. It swirled in the treetops like an inky fog, wrapping and twisting among the once green leaves. Now the foliage was dead, drained of its life by the dark force around it. Lack of sun and good had choked it out, leaving nothing but shriveled pods of brown.

Below, in the middle of the clearing, Mastix sat at a small table he had fashioned from a log. On it was one, solitary candle; the only light to be found in this evil camp. Illuminated by its flickering flame was a book, old and worn. Mastix flipped through its many pages, finger tracing the words of each leaflet as his eyes roved through its contents. All at one he paused, eyes widening as he finally discovered the chapter he had been searching for. He read over the faded, garbled words and flipped to the next page, the memory of the scrawls returning to him at each line. He smiled nastily, letting out a dark chuckle. Getting up and moving over to his collection of portable supplies, he began to sift through the objects, selecting the ingredients he would need.

Behind him the book lay opened, still illuminated by the fading candlelight. The page fluttered in a sudden breeze, blowing back to the chapters title. It read:

The Spell of Extraction.

...

* Yes, this is the same Commander Spacious from my story Safe and Sound. I couldn't help mentioning him. :)

*Another small reference to my story Safe and Sound.

There we go. A little shorter than some of the other chapters, but I thought it was important to have a chapter that served as a sort of breather. I needed the characters to sit back a moment and do some reviewing and discussing. They needed a little break before the next stage in their adventure begins.