Author's Notes: I really have to stop starting new stories, but ideas keep on coming! D: I'm sorry! D: I was having trouble writing a fight scene for the next chapter of Things Unforgotten, would you believe it? Me, having trouble writing a fight scene? D: I think it's because Lorianne fights in a completely different style and weapon from what I'm used to. D:
This is also the first time I'm writing something without a prologue and epilogue, although this is so short it almost is a prologue. D: This is still related to Woosh! since some of the characters here will be appearing later on, although this is a good thirty years earlier. Deadly Enchantment builds on the idea of a Magic Stream in the RO world. Any comments and/or critique on it are welcome.
This is dedicated to Skye Mihalak, whose latest one shot, Unlucky Days, inspired me to write this (Yeah, you're right about the whole rogue thing…but…/sob :S Wizards are so cute though:D) and Tom Valor, whose Crimson Twilight Trilogy was the main motivation for this first chapter. (Is there anything of mine he hasn't inspired in some way:S )
Disclaimer: Ragnarok Online don't belong to me, but the characters do. And I wish they didn't hate me so much…Damn you Trian! You busted by leg/an
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Ragnarok Online
Deadly Enchantment
Chapter 1 – Falling
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Inside, outside,
All around.
Left, right,
Just behind.
Over, under,
Don't fall in.
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"First Blacksmith Division, fall back! Third Wizard Division, ready your spells! Don't let them through!"
Trian gripped his staff tighter, the beady eyes of the carved dragon seeming to gleam with amusement at his own anxiety. The council had pulled as many able bodied fighters as possible to the north, west and south gates, but Trian felt uneasy at their decision. Although most of the attacks were coming from those areas, they were leaving the east side of Geffen open to attack. The walled capital, Prontera, had already been informed of the combination orcish, kobold and goblin assault on the magic city. However, it would take time for the Pronteran Knight and Priest Divisions to make it to Geffen. It was time the Geffenese could ill afford. Any time now, the orcs could break through their meagre defences…
"We need an ice wall near the south bank! Stop those archers from sniping us!"
There were so many of the humanoids…far too many. Centuries of repression from the Geffen people had made them lust for the destruction of the humans' home, but they never attacked. Finally, they finally mustered the courage and numbers to attack the city. They managed to see past millennia of their own suspicion of each other to band together, making a huge army. Despite their large numbers, their well known commanders, Orc Hero, Orc Lord, Goblin Leader, Panzer Goblin, Werewolf and Kobold Leader were nowhere in sight. But even without their usual leaders, the legion of attacking demi-humans wouldn't stop until Geffen was burnt to the ground…
Trian was still recovering from the last barrage of spells he had released, as were several other wizards. It was a break they could ill afford to have, but they all knew that they would be useless if they didn't do so. Death screams of both human and non-human filled their air, their cries grinding on his already frayed nerves. Trian wished he could block out the sounds but he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. He wished that it would all just stop. He just wanted all the screams…everything…to stop. He had never seen so much death before and he didn't like it at all. He just wanted the demi-humans to go away and leave them all alone.
In that back of his mind, he was thankful that his friend, Tyler, was not in Geffen. His ex-classmate in the magic academy in Yuno chose to remain to further his studies as a sage. He wished he was there himself, to watch the magic demonstrations the floating city of wisdom had every week. Sometimes, if they were lucky, a bard, or even a bard-dancer ensemble, would drop by. The really, really good ones created their own brand of magic through their songs and dance, although their magic was mostly not meant for use in battle. When the bards came to Yuno to sing about the ancient gods, it was one of the rare times he could see Tyler smile. Not just do that wry, twitch the corner of his mouth upward thing he did, but a true smile. He was glad that his friend wasn't caught up in a battle for his life…
Trian clapped his hands together and murmured a quiet chant, drawing from the power of God to bestow minor blessings on the people further in front of him. As the only person in the area that had any training in acolyte spells, he was on support duty as well as using his usual elemental spells. However, Trian simply did not have the devotion of priests, and at the very best, could only heal minor wounds. He himself was amazed he could still heal and bless, despite his beliefs lying in the Magic Stream rather than in God. For most, it would be impossible to draw from the opposing forms of magic.
The wizard was starting to feel sick from using the horribly clashing opposing magics, making him feel like his insides were sloshing around inside a glass bottle. Nevertheless, he began chanting again, closing his eyes and concentrating on 'seeing' the immense Magic Stream. It felt like an eternity in which he floundered in the black darkness in between before he finally felt the power of the Stream. Opening his eyes, he let the piece of borrowed magic manifest itself as gusts of freezing wind. The blizzard quickly turned the archers in the back lines into icicles, effectively immobilising them. Trian staggered back, dropping to his knees as a wave of vertigo hit him like a punch to the gut. He managed to see flashes of lightning, no doubt from the less experienced magicians, strike the frozen orcs through his blurring vision. It was a common tactic; freeze the enemy before shattering them with a well placed bolt of lightning. But Geffen was going to need much, much more than that to save them. Several more screams punctured the air as the remaining archers quickly began to target the magicians who did not duck back behind cover quickly enough. Trian winced. He didn't even have the strength to cast the fog-like barrier that would have saved their lives. For a moment, he almost wished he had continued his studies as an acolyte. If he had been a priest instead of a wizard…
Trian slowly let his eyes droop shut, taking slow, steady breaths to relieve some of his exhaustion. There was no time to think about past decisions now. He was tired beyond belief, almost a walking corpse. Never before had he cast so many spells in succession and it was taking a tremendous toll on his endurance. He briefly wondered how many more spells he could cast before he simply couldn't any more…
His heart plummeted as he heard the cry, "They've broken through! Second Blacksmith Division, rally to me!" Shouts of "Rally!" filled the thick air as the division attempted to regroup itself amidst the sounds of the dying.
Trian reluctantly dragged his heavy eyelids open again, unsteadily getting to his feet. He must look such a sorry state right now. His white shirt had untucked itself during the battles and had all sorts of dirty smudges on it. His thin gloves were starting to get worn on the tips from having to heave himself back onto his feet every ten minutes. He was sure his hair was a mess, especially since the band that usually held it in its loose ponytail had long since slipped out. The strands of hair blew over his face and obscured his vision, in general irritating him. Dirty, tattered and most of all, burnt when the initial barrage of fire arrows lit it on fire, his cloak flapped uselessly behind him. Trian had never been so dishevelled in his life. There were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping for days…
"They're coming in through the East Gate!"
Eyes widening as fear suddenly gripped him with its long claws, Trian turned to see a young magician running towards him. Only to see, to his horror, the child struck down by a white fletched arrow. The nightmare he had imagined from the beginning was unfolding before his eyes. There were scores and scores of orcs, goblins and kobolds cutting a swathe through the pitifully small defences, torching houses as they went. The defenders couldn't afford to be caught in the middle of all the immense armies of the demi-humans! They had to be stopped…somehow! Trian began chanting again, shaking off his exhaustion, his mind amazingly clear and easy to focus. There was no way he was going to let them get close…he couldn't afford to let them get through…
An ice wall sprung up ahead of him, blocking the path of the attackers. Almost immediately, Trian launched into another chant, calling on the spell originally devised by the first magician centuries ago. He barely glimpsed the Stream before he conjured several tornados, their angry red colour taking after its namesake. They whirled, sucking not only screaming goblins and kobolds into its hungry grasp high in the air, but also some of Geffen's grey-blue pavement! Then, suddenly the tornados stopped their spinning, becoming a bright red pillar of light as the goblins and kobolds we hurled back to the ground. Those that weren't killed on impact soon saw the Grim Reaper when the Geffen pavement smashed into their faces. The bricks even managed to crack through the intricate masks of the goblins and the horned helms of the orcs that protected them from ordinary attacks.
Some of the orcs that managed to make it unscathed through the spell began to make a hole through Trian's immense ice wall. Again, he hardly had the chance to fully see the Stream before he released a globe of crackling electricity at the orcs as they pulled themselves through the hole they had created. He couldn't help but notice that dark blotches were forming at the edge of his vision while he conjured another ice wall. Battling dizziness, he tried to refocus his mind through the cries of the orcs as their flesh burned under the intensity of the spell. Hesitating for a split second, he launched into another chant. He had no choice; he needed to cast this spell. He didn't want more people to die…
He unconsciously translated the strange language of magic in his mind as he chanted, his mind focused on the immense task he had assigned himself. Time was racing against him. Any moment now his Jupitel Thunder would wear out…any moment hordes of orcs, goblins and kobolds would break through his second ice wall and come charging through…burying their weapons into his body before moving on to slaughter everyone else…
The Stream welcomed him with open arms, its all encompassing aura flickering tantalisingly. He could almost hear a song…a song that he had heard many times in Yuno. The magical poem of Bragi, the patron of all poets…it was almost enough for any mage to close their eyes and sink into the depths of the Stream just to keep on hearing that beautiful song. But he had to resist the temptation. The dangers of falling in…his instructor when he was a mere magician had drilled into his mind the importance of not descending into the Stream. Those who did…he didn't even want to think about it…
It was an effort to tear his mind away from the Magic Stream. It was an effort to focus on taking what he needed to defeat his enemies. For a moment, he almost blacked out, stumbling forward a few steps before sinking to his knees as the strain he was putting on himself began to rear its ugly head. But he couldn't stop…not now…not while the threat still remained…
Trian refocused his mind, starting his chant again even as he felt his fingertips scrape against the pavement. His throat was parched and his dry lips were having difficulty forming the proper syllables, but he ploughed on, hearing the orcs chipping away at his wall. It was a matter of life or death…"You've wandered the starry skies infinitely, you've been there since the beginning of time. Always circling…Eternal, I beg you with all my heart, grant me power to rain destruction to purge us of our invaders. I call upon you, Great Eternal… Meteor Shower!"
Huge, fiery boulders hurtled towards the orcish army, crushing them in their dozens. Scores of the green skinned humanoids were decimated by the barrage, causing panic in the goblins and kobolds, who looked up to the orcs as their pillar of strength. They all scattered, but Trian knew the moment of chaos wouldn't last very long. He needed to cast another spell…any spell…anything that would keep them busy until more help came…
While he began to chant again, he could hear shouts, but it was like he was hearing them from underwater. The words were blurry and undecipherable. Shaking off the distraction, he found the welcoming glow of the Magic Stream. Yet…in a blink of an eye, it was all gone. He couldn't feel anything…there was a great serpent, a serpent he hadn't seen since the time when he was an acolyte…and then he was spiralling into bleak darkness…
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Author Notes: I'm not sure if I quite portrayed the spells right, since I haven't played a wizard yet. Also, I've always thought that Lord of Vermillion is a fire spell, until someone showed me that it wasn't. /sob That made a few complications to the writing…/swt I was having a look see at the bard song names, and I found a pretty interesting site on mythology in general. There were quite a few things I didn't know about Norse mythology. I always wondered why Song of Lutie (i.e. Apple of Idun) had golden apples…Niflheim (the World of the Dead) seems to be one of the 9 worlds, and in some myths, Hel and Niflheim can be considered as one.
I seriously have to write a story with a bard. I play my bard, GateCrahser (go the DS dancer!) the most, yet I don't have any stories dedicated to him. D: This went through some editing after reading this great book on improving writing. :D I think this version is much better than the first one. XD
