Название: Ringwall's Doom
Автор: Wolf Awert
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
Серия: Pentamuria
isbn: 9783959591720
isbn:
The sun rose slowly, reached its peak and continued its journey to the place beyond the horizon where it hid its light and refreshed its strength. Nill lay on the ground, hunched over and motionless. The ram circled around the lifeless body and eyed its surroundings warily. It grew restless, for it had a biting smell in its nose that came not from magic, but wild predators. A pack of leonpedons slunk around nearby, attracted by the thought of easy prey, but held off by the smell of burnt earth. Still they hesitated.
Their first attacks came as playful feints. They ran off and leapt in, then returned to the safety of the pack. With each feint they seemed to gain more confidence and nothing stood between them and Nill except the old ram, himself an easy target.
The ram had stopped circling and now stared into the falling sun. A mighty male roared and made a half-hearted lunge forward. It still hesitated, but this time it did not turn tail. It was only a few leaps away from the ram now. The next attack would strike true. The maned beast seemed to deliberate his next action when the ram stormed off. Its hooves beat the earth and its horned blow would have shattered the leonpedon’s shoulder had it not rolled to the side in the last second. The rest of the pack trembled. The burnt smell in the air, the scent of something foreign to them, and now their prey attacked their lead hunter. It was too much chaos for their world and they retreated hissing. Only their hunger stopped them from giving up.
The ram trotted back as though it knew no dangers in the world. It threw a contemptuous glance back at the leonpedons over its shoulder before returning to its combat stance and considering the male that now strode back and forth, its eyes on the ram. It was not prepared to run away.
Nill opened his eyes, perhaps just in time. Perhaps not – his ram did not look as though it felt inferior to the predators in any way. Which of the two unequal fighters would have kept the other hand would stay a mystery, for Nill raised an arm and threw a bolt of Metal at the leonpedons.
There was a slight hiss and a crackling noise. Several pathetic sparks bounced across the earth and flickered out. As weak as the spell was, it was enough to turn the beasts off their prey for good, and so they ran away as quickly as they had come. The only sound was the sporadic, disappointed roar of the male, until they were too far away. At last it was calm.
Burnt out and hollow, was Nill’s last thought before he fell back into the heavy sleep of exhaustion.
Only the next morning did Nill see the full extent of the havoc he had wrought. Starting from the point where he had fought Amargreisfing there was a gash in the land as far as the eye could see; the grass was burnt and the earth fractured. The neighboring hill had split. One half had sunk deep into the ground, the other had risen. The scar in the land had not yet come to rest. As he watched, stones and mud fell from the higher side into the hole, which slowly ran full of water.
Many generations later the folk would tell of two lovers who could not find each other. The legend says that the Lord of Light sought the Keeper of Darkness whom he had only seen fleetingly in the distance, and had sworn never to rest until he found her. Here he kept watch over the world as a cliff and never noticed that his beloved was always at his feet. Nothing is harder than taking the blindness from one who already sees, and no one is blinder than one in love. And so it took a special spell to bring the two together – but that is another story.
Nill knew nothing of the attraction this place would one day hold for future generations of people. The sun had already risen high in the sky.
He sniffed the air and turned his head this way and that, but there was nothing immediately unusual. But Nill was cautious. It would not be the first time that a second danger hid behind a more obvious first one.
“Send a cutthroat after an honorable warrior.” That was, as Brolok had informed him, one of the guidelines of the royal strategists. “A victor in honorable combat will not expect an assault to follow.” Nill had learned much from Brolok. He wished he was by his side, and if only as a strong shoulder to lean on.
Nill stood up with some difficulty. His legs were stiff and his muscles trembled; he had to fight to regain his strength. His eyes must have suffered from the attack too. At first Nill had assumed it was dusk, despite the position of the sun, for the world around him was darker than usual. But it was not the sun that had forgotten to shine. The plants’ auras had lost their light. Again and again black clouds passed over Nill’s eyes and removed all color. Everything in him hurt, and even the tiniest motion caused pain, yet even the pain was dulled. What would have been biting and searing agony was a mere throb. What should have broken and torn hung limp. Nill felt around his body to make sure everything was still there, so overwhelming was the feeling of emptiness, of insubstantiality.
Burnt out.
A new fear rose like bile in Nill’s throat. There were stories, tales told in Ringwall’s corridors, of mages who lost the ability to use magic overnight. The energy and knowledge was still there, but the pathways of the body were blocked in some places and too wide open in others. The magical streams no longer flowed properly and many who had experienced this were glad to still be able to make a small fire after a cold night.
Nill gathered his thoughts. Plant light, earth heavy.
The blade of grass wobbled, just like when he had first attempted to separate Wood and Earth. No more, just wobbled. Nill hid his head under his arms.
The wind whispered in his ears for a long time before he raised his head again. Burnt out, the words pulsed through him in an intrusive rhythm.
Pulsing and hammering and beating. The contraction and expansion of nature. The pulse of life. The Nothing. The saving grace in his hour of need.
Whenever all seemed lost, the Nothing helped Nill. He could not say he knew it would work so far from Ringwall’s Sanctuary, but what choice did he have? He fell to the ground and released his body from the bonds of the world. He was not sure he had reached the Nothing; his senses dwindled and returned suddenly. He felt like he had taken a short nap and took a deep breath. Weakness and exhaustion were gone. He felt strong, full of vigor and magic. Healthy and invincible.
He raised his open hands and flung fireballs into every direction, raised the flames to the sky and concentrated the water in the air to a cloud that rained down on his head and extinguished the fires with hissing and sputtering – Nill stared around in disbelief. The grass was unburnt, there had been no firewalls around him and above his head there was not even a hint of mist, let alone a cloud.
“Plant light, earth heavy!” he yelled and made a wide, flailing gesture to slice through the dense roots beneath the surface. He failed. Nothing happened. Nill shouted spell after spell. He could feel the energy roaring in his body, but the world seemed unaffected. Nill had no influence on it.
But the young archmage was not easily dissuaded. If his magic no longer obeyed him, there must be a reason for it. He felt around for the elemental magics and to his relief he found them. All five elements were present.
I haven’t lost the gift quite yet, he thought.
There was Fire, red in every aura. Somewhat pale and lucid, but it was there. He also knew the brown of Earth, darker than ever, and so too was the blue Water, closer to a night sky than a still lake. But Earth and Water were there, no mistake about it.
The Metal’s black color had grown pale. As Nill searched for and found it, it had lightened to gray. And Wood? What of the element СКАЧАТЬ