Chapter 26: Mercury Rising
Then.
Zackel didn't know what business the Maginor had with SI:7, but he'd long figured out that as the student, it wasn't his job to ask questions. Especially considering he was the new student (among others, yes, but he was the one who had been given this current task), at that. So, when he'd woken up and found the parchment on his studying materials, along with the note that said to bring it to the stone building tucked into Stormwind's Old Town, the only thing Zackel had done was confirm that it had been the Maginor who had actually sent him the request. Two magic words confirmed the secret signature the wizard had placed in the treated wax he used, and so Zackel had gotten dressed, eaten a quick breakfast, and headed out to deliver the message before classes started.
Had things gone differently, he might have mentioned where he was going to Daldion, or one of his fellow students in passing. As things had went, he didn't, and hence had headed to the SI:7 headquarters alone.
A fact that had begun to bother him when he entered its courtyard and found it deserted. True, it was fairly early in the morning, but Zackel expected to see SOMEONE in the well-used training area. That was not the case, and Zackel found himself glancing around as he walked across the area. He had a bad feeling.
Which only increased as he reached the front of the building and found the doors closed and, as he tried to turn the door handle, locked. The young mage-in-training narrowed his eyes, glancing back over his shoulders to confirm that he was still alone.
"Um, hello?" Zackel said. "Anyone there?"
There was no answer. Zackel's attempt to turn up a mail slot or something in that vein revealed nothing. Zackel cocked his head at the issue, letting go of his trainer's staff to run a hand through his brown hair. He had never cared for yelling at a doorway in an attempt to gain entry: it always struck him as crass. At the moment, though, he didn't see what else he could do. Well, besides come back later, but that was the last option.
"Hello! Anyone there!" Zackel said, raising his hand and knocking on the door. "I have a message…!"
The dagger buried itself in the wood scant inches from Zackel's hand. Zackel stared at the weapon for a few seconds before his alarm overrode his surprise and he turned around.
Nothing. The area was still deserted.
Zackel, however, was not so stupid in the ways of SI:7 to expect that was actually the case. He promptly did the smart thing: snatching up his training staff and running for it.
He made it down the stairs and a third of the way across the courtyard before the boot tripped him, Zackel immediately losing his balance and falling on his face.
"Ha. Nice try." The female voice said, the stealth cloak falling off the black-clad rogue as she spoke.
"What wait…?" Zackel said, mixing his words up in his shock. He'd rolled onto his rear as the rogue had spoken, his staff nearby.
"Just business kid. Sorry." The rogue said, pulling a pair of nastily curved daggers from her waist. "Bye."
The rogue lunged forward. Zackel screamed and waved his arms defensively.
The ice surged out of his hands and smashed into the rogue's chest, knocking her backwards. She turned the blow into a cartwheel and then a flip before stopping, holding her chest as she looked at the young man with dark annoyance.
Zackel scrambled up, his mind tumbling over itself in his confusion. He didn't know whether to continue running, yell his head off for help, or try and defend himself. Maybe all three…
Oh light, where was his staff? And what was…
"Enough." Another voice suddenly said, before a second stealth cloak dropped, revealing a male dwarf.
"Ahhhhh!"
"Relax lad! On your side." The dwarf said. "Sorry for the deception. It was what we were told to do."
"…huh?" Zackel said, his head jerking back and forth between the pair. The female rogue had put her daggers away and was massaging the area where Zackel had struck her, pulling her mask off with the other hand.
"Just look inside the parchment you were given. That will answer it." The dwarf said, before turning to the female. "Yae all right lass?"
"Yeah. Ugh. Got a kick like a mule." The female rogue said.
"Yae left yerself open, lass. Underestimated the young man. Never good." The dwarf said, apparently the female's teacher. The two turned and began wandering off, leaving a very confused Zackel standing.
Eventually, he managed to get the parchment he'd been given (and dropped when he'd been running), opening it up. The message within was short and simple, and Zackel looked up at the windows around him before turning towards the SI:7 entrance that the dwarf and human had gone through, the lock now undone.
The symbol traced on the paper allowed Zackel past the security and to the upstairs level where the room he'd been instructed to go was. The Maginor was sitting at a chair inside it, near the window, rifling through a book.
"Maginor?"
"Yes Zackel. Come in." Maginor Dumas said, not looking up from the books he was examining. "Please don't dally."
"Uh…sir?" Zackel said as he walked over to his magic instructor. "What just happened?"
"The unfortunate state of teaching in these troubled times." Dumas said, finally looking up. "You remember what you just did?"
"You mean out there? I, well…panicked. Lashed out blindly."
"And you did so with ice. That's what I needed to see." Dumas said, closing the book he'd been checking.
"…you were trying to see what I'd do under sudden danger?" Zackel said. "But I told you that story when I was younger, wasn't it…?"
"Not precisely. What happened there was your initial awakening. I needed to see what you would do, or what would happen, once you'd gotten the bare basics of training. To decide what direction likely best suits you. And it seems to be the path of frost." Dumas said. 'I apologize for the methods I utilized to decide this. In older, calmer times, those that were training in the art could discover their specialty at their own pace. We don't have that luxury any more. The sooner we know it, the better, and tactics like this are often the best way to get a handle on your own unique spirit."
"So…that's it? I'm a frost mage now?"
"Not necessarily. You can't really decide these things with one test. But it is likely where your skills will lie. Now that we now, we can continue lessons to see if this is true, or find what the truth is otherwise. I have some books for you." Dumas said, offering Zackel the tome he'd been perusing as well as two more by his side. Zackel took them, tucking them under his arm. "Begin reading them and attempting their lessons immediately."
"…yes sir." Zackel said, still a bit off-put by it all.
"And don't tell anyone else about this. I still have to give this test to several of your peers. I don't want to muddy the waters." Dumas said, standing up and reaching out a hand. "Hold still now. We're going to return to the school for today's lessons."
"Yes sir." Zackel said again. "Uh sir…are there going to be any more lessons in this vein?"
"You won't know until you face them." Dumas said, and with a flash of light, the two were gone, having blinked across the city.
Now.
The Maginor had been more right than he'd realized. Even after Zackel had left his teaching, there had been more lessons in that vein. Lessons in that vein were life.
The test had also been correct in assessing Zackel's talents in the art of ice and cold, though it would not be for some time and great tragedy later that Zackel really understood why that was. And, just now, within the fortress he now stood on, Zackel had learned still more about it, and himself.
He wasn't about to stop his lessons. Especially when he didn't even know why. This ogre magi, Grel'borg the Miser, spoke as if he had some sort of grudge against him. Just what it was part of the many questions Zackel had had since the thudding noise had woken him up.
If he was anywhere near as good as he'd strove to be, he'd get answers. If not…
He hadn't struggled to cast off life's burdens these weeks to have it taken away from him. By that accord, he took the first shot.
"SONTAR!"
The blade of ice flew from Zackel's staff. It would have stopped a charging, unarmored Tauren in its tracks.
With a gesture, Grel'borg batted it aside, his will reaching out and turning away Zackel's.
"SONTAR! SONTAR!" Zackel yelled, firing several more blasts. They all suffered the same fate, Grel'borg barely seeming to make an effort. Clutching his staff tighter, Zackel raised it to the sky.
"SONTAR-HA!"
The storm contorted above Grel'borg and then rained bladed, crushing down ice on him. The ogre magi raised his own staff in response, and the ice deflected to the rooftop around him. When all was said and done, he remained untouched.
"…is that all?" Grel'borg said, lowing his staff even as he raised a hand. "If so…"
The ogre thrust his hand out, a fireball erupting from his palm and hurling towards Zackel. It was Zackel's turn to 'counter-spell', lashing out with his staff and knocking the fireball away.
Unfortunately, it came back. Zackel yelped and barely dodged, the heat searing his face as the bolt of flame surged by. It immediately turned back around and went for Zackel again. Zackel frantically deflected it once more, and again, only for the flame to keep homing back in.
The last time, Zackel blasted it outright with ice, finally getting a bead on it and snuffing it out. Zackel took no satisfaction in the action though. He knew what was coming, and immediately turned his attention back to Grel'borg to face it.
He'd been wrong. He didn't know what was coming. He'd expected two fireballs.
Grel'borg, having stood there channeling, instead slammed out both his hands and proceeded to fire off a stream of several dozen.
Zackel went into a defensive frenzy, trying to knock away all the smaller, weaker, but still lethal attacks. The assault was too much despite his attempts, and the small blasts impacted on his chest, shoulder, and left leg. Zackel stumbled backwards, briefly regaining his balance before falling to one knee. He deflected the last two fireballs, somehow, with magic willed through his broken hand.
Sixteen more followed in their wake.
Zackel responded by slamming his staff into the ground. A wall of ice erupted between him and Grel'borg, the fireballs impacting on it instead. Zackel pushed himself up, drawing back to shove the ice wall forward.
Grel'borg moved first, spinning his staff around and stabbing it towards Zackel. The fire that erupted from his staff end lanced out far swifter and with more impact then his initially thrown projectiles, the scorching attack drilling right through the ice wall like it wasn't there and through Zackel in turn. Zackel recoiled away, waiting for the pain to start, and, after it didn't, checking the left side of his robes. A large hole had been burnt clean through the magical protection, the material flapping in the wind having obscured Zackel as a target and just left him with some blistered skin.
Then Grel'borg shattered the ice wall with a follow-up fireball, the chunks of frozen water pelting Zackel and knocking him down. Pain exploded through his arm as he banged his injured hand, a low shudder shaking Zackel's body as he tried to deal with it.
"Others have come like you." Grel'borg said, walking forward from where he'd been. "Assuming themselves better. They fed my belly, as you will."
"…I don't suppose that I never made any assumption will change anything." Zackel said.
"No."
"Figured." Zackel said, before he seized the cold wind that continued to scream around him and used it to push himself to his feet, his staff's tip glowing as he lashed out. Grel'borg showed surprising speed by dodging to the side, the blue energy missing him. Instead, it struck the ice barricade Zackel had thrown over the door, flashing out and forming into a mass of cruel ice-spikes.
Zackel promptly followed up the first blast with a second, more power exploding from his staff and forming into a horizontal pillar of ice. It slammed into the ogre magi, driving him backwards across the roof and towards the spikes.
For several feet, before he began to slow down. Zackel grimaced and placed his broken hand on his staff, but it didn't help as the ogre stopped completely. Rasping air between his teeth, Zackel dropped off the effort, leaving the ice battering ram floating in the air.
Grel'borg glanced behind himself, looking at the spikes, before turning and smashing the ice ram down into the ground, shattering it to pieces.
"Pathetic." Grel'borg said, gesturing behind himself, a bloom of fire melting the spikes Zackel had formed. "Child would have avoided that."
"You'd be surprised." Zackel said, before slashing back his staff. The broken ice on the ground flew to him and reformed on Zackel's weapon, the mage swinging it back like a morning star.
It shattered on Grel'borg's magical shield, but Zackel followed up the attack with another burst of blue energy. Grel'borg moved to dodge it, only for Zackel to blink out of sight, the mage teleporting behind the ogre. As he did, his blast went low, striking the ground in front of Grel'borg and manifesting into more vicious spikes. Zackel followed the attack up in turn as he re-appeared behind Grel'borg, spinning and firing another fist of ice.
It might have worked if Grel'borg hadn't immediately copied Zackel and blinked forward himself, no longer standing in front of the ice spikes. Having turned around as well, he immediately blasted Zackel's ice-fist with his own fire, blowing the attack apart. Zackel snarled and raised his staff, only for Grel'borg to shoot another fireball, this one in an arc. By the time Zackel realized the fact of the arc, the fireball had flown over and detonated behind, throwing him forward.
Directly onto his own trap.
The tips of the spikes dulled half a second from a frantically sent command before Zackel crashed onto them. The lengths of dense ice still crushed the air from his body, Zackel gasping it out in a large cloud of white that the wind immediately stole away.
"You believe you were stronger. Up here." Grel'borg said, gesturing around at the storm. Said storm didn't seem to be bothering him at all: he didn't even have any residual ice on him. "I ogre. I am strong, and I live here. You think magic belongs only to you. You believe any of it I could use is below your concern."
Zackel slowly pushed himself up, breathing with considerable pain as he looked at his enemy.
"Your error will make you scream." Grel'borg said, taking his staff in his hands. Even with the storm, Zackel could feel the heat gathering on him.
"Personally I'd rather keep my words soft and sweet." Zackel said, holding out his injured hand. He wished he could do this with his staff or left hand, but he needed said staff in said hand to make guarding efforts when it was needed. Zackel worked with what he had: ice surged up around his right hand, and he hurled the sphere he'd formed at Grel'borg's head.
Grel'borg, amazingly, took it, the ball smashing against his skull and breaking apart. It made him take a step back, but the ogre kept his focus. Alarm surged into Zackel's heart, and he promptly tried the same trick again, this time making the ball three times bigger.
A mistake, as a surge of pain erupted up his hand in the process. Losing control, Zackel dropped the ball instead of throwing it, drawing his aching hand close to his body on instinct with a groan.
"Damn it." Zackel said, before looking up at the ogre. "I'm not hungry."
"CHIRECK!" Grel'borg thundered, thrusting his staff up before twisting and pointing it at Zackel. Zackel brought up his staff to mount a defense.
When no immediate attack came, Zackel almost lowered it entirely in confusion.
Then he felt the heat above him and looked up.
The twisting pillar of fire smashed down almost on top of his head, Zackel stepping backwards just in time. He retreated several more steps before the fire pillar roared after him, faster then he could move.
"Sont…!" Zackel managed to get out, and then the fire was on him, the mage vanishing from sight.
Grel'borg lowered his staff, the fire twister quickly breaking apart and fading away. The ogre placed one hand on his chest as he looked at where his enemy had been, his gaze glancing downward for a few moments.
"Do you not see?" Grel'borg said. "Is this not finally…proof enough…?"
The ogre stopped talking as the partially shattered ice block was revealed. A few seconds later it fully broke apart, Zackel pushing his way out from within it.
"…why are we doing this?" Zackel said.
"You…"
"Yeah yeah! I'm not worthy! Whatever the fel that means! And you're not explaining!" Zackel said, icy blue power erupting anew from his staff and surging around his body. Despite his best efforts, all the bad circumstances had finally gotten to him, and he'd lost his temper. "I really don't care any more! Mostly because I just realized I've nearly died three times in less than two minutes, and I DON'T HAVE THE SLIGHTEST CLUE WHY!"
"…and what you plan to do about it?" Grel'borg said.
"LET'S FIND OUT." Zackel said, and slammed the end of his staff down on the ground. Blue light flashed, and then ice blades began erupting across the rooftop floor towards the ogre magi.
Grel'borg snorted and rammed his own staff down. Eruptions of fire blasted up from beneath the encroaching ice, shattering it to pieces and stopping its advance.
"Rage does not suit you, manling." Grel'borg said. Zackel's only response was to spin his staff and thrust it out, firing blast after blast of blue energy at the ogre. Grel'borg deflected them all again, sending the manifestations of cold shooting off in all directions, the attacks instead impacting all around the roof, several outright falling off the edge and vanishing into the swirling clouds of snow down there.
"I know anger. Far better than you. And yours will not grant you advantage!" Grel'borg said. Zackel lowered his arms, breathing heavily.
Keeping his eyes locked with Grel'borg.
Hoping the ogre didn't see how the impact sites of his deflected power had manifested several more masses of spikes, all of them aimed at the ogre.
With one swift upward jerk of his hand, Zackel broke them off and lanced them at the ogre.
Who slammed his staff down with a roar, and terrible heat erupted off his body, the fire consuming all the ice and melting it away before it got close. The fire was so intense it actually melted all the snow around Grel'borg in a ten foot radius, and almost seemed to give the storm roaring around him pause, if just for a second.
Weariness and despair settled on Zackel's mind, even as he fell to one knee.
"I grant no pity for your crippled state. You choose fight anyway." Grel'borg said. "It not mean much difference. You waste power, rely too much on fancy and tricks. You have little left. Give up. Kill you rather painlessly."
"…you know…a little while ago…I might have actually been tempted by that offer." Zackel said.
Dull purple energy erupted on Zackel's form, Zackel closing his eyes and drawing on his lessons of the arcane. Azeroth, as much pain as it had brought it, was blessed with truly abundant magical energy, and Zackel knew how to draw on it when his own stores were depleted. Grel'borg watched as the mage channeled the evocation for several seconds, the energies fading away as Zackel stood up.
"It matters little." Grel'borg said. "I still stronger. You see regardless."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe you are stronger. And maybe anger doesn't suit me." Zackel said, reaching into his robe with his injured hand. "Personally…I'm more of a gamesman. Play Thrust?"
Grel'borg stared at the mage, who withdrew a small white feather clutched between his finger tips.
"Didn't think so." Zackel said. "The point being, I'm good at lateral thinking."
The feather dissolved, as Zackel took a deep breath.
Then he leapt up, calling on the cold winds to embrace him again. Whether they obeyed or were merely kind, they listened, as Zackel was swept up by the cataract and 'flew' off to the side, vanishing into the swirling white oblivion.
"…rarngh." Grel'borg snarled, turning in the direction Zackel had vanished. "Stupid trickery! Return and fight!"
The storm had no answered save its ever-repeating howl.
"…you think up here, she…" Grel'borg began.
The ice spear flew from the blinding snow, impaling itself into Grel'borg's shoulder. The ogre magi yelled, but the wound wasn't deep and the ogre quickly grabbed and yanked the point out. The second spear missed Grel'borg by a foot, and the ogre turned and counter-attacked, throwing blasts of flame into the storm.
"You cannot use trick forever!" Grel'borg said. The only response was another blast of ice from a completely different angle that torn into Grel'borg's back. Snarling, the ogre turned around, and then immediately turned again and blasted the follow-up ice spear, destroying it before it could strike him in the back a second time. The ice spear after that came from the side: Grel'borg managed to dodge it.
The forth one came down as he did, impaling itself in Grel'borg's leg. The ogre bellowed again, even as a shadow materialized before him.
Grel'borg lanced out his staff and fired a flaming bolt directly at the form as it flew forward.
The rough ice construct crashed down at Grel'borg's feet, broken to pieces by the attack. A second later, Zackel came in from an angle, a sword of ice on his staff that he stabbed directly at Grel'borg neck.
He found the ogre's hand instead, the ogre magi slapping Zackel's staff away and thrusting forward. Zackel's eyes went as wide as saucers. How…?
"RARGGGHHHHH!" Grel'borg yelled, as he turned and slammed Zackel into the rooftop. Caught off guard by the ogre's amazing defense, Zackel barely managed to manifest some ice armor.
It didn't help. The impact felt like it broke every single remaining bone in Zackel's body, the crushing slam reverberating back through Zackel's form several times over before it faded and Zackel lay still.
Zackel opened his mouth to try and breathe. Blood flowed out instead, called up from within Zackel. Grel'borg snorted and took a step back, looking at the crumpled remains of the mage with disgust.
"Fool. You still think better? That this superior?" Grel'borg said, gesturing at the never-ending blizzard. "I MASTER of fire! All fire! Storm cannot harm me! You tricks cannot fool me! See own fire in you!"
Zackel's mind was far too scrambled to find sense in Grel'borg's words. Had he not been a writhing mess at the ogre's feet, he might have (correctly) concluded that the ogre's magical skills included the ability to see or sense heat. Including body heat. Zackel could do something similar, but only to a mild degree: the ogre apparently had far greater proficiency. His sneak attack had been a failure even as he'd started it: the ogre had always known where he was and had acted otherwise to lure him in.
"Have seen enough."
The giant hand reached down, seizing Zackel and pulling him up. Zackel tried to resist, to mount another offensive.
Then he felt the heat building on him, and his dulled eyes went wide and clear.
"Set fire FREE."
Everything ignited on Zackel's body. His robes. His skin. His hair. Zackel felt the cruel claws of the flame surge down his mouth and impale its claws through his heart, even as it stole away the air he would have needed to scream.
"BURN." Grel'borg said.
And Zackel did.