198 — Book 4, Chapter 42 — The Grand Assault, Pt 5

Alexius Kevonan was rescued from the Source of Vitality's increasingly graphic explanation of how he had been "bound" by the arrival of one Cale Cadwell Cobbs and a veritable army of Brightscale's most terrifying mages. Any relief he might have felt disappeared immediately when he realized exactly who had interrupted them.

That was Cale, he was sure. He'd never seen a picture of the mage, but he'd heard plenty about the ridiculous hooded cloak he liked to wear and its equally ridiculous number of pockets. How was he here? Alexius had been certain his many contingencies would be enough to keep the human away!

Ugh. He hated humans. Even putting his fear—his concerns about Cale's magical prowess aside, humans were such smooth-skinned, fleshy creatures, with funny segmented limbs and patchy hair. He hated having to even look at the man, especially after the spirit of Vitality's detailed and vigorous... explanation...

"Cale Cadwell Cobbs." Right on time, Vital's voice sounded behind him, and it was disgustingly soft and affectionate. "Late as always, I see."

"In my defense, I got trapped in a dungeon for a while and forced to live through basically the crucial turning point in human history," Cale said. Something in his demeanor had relaxed the moment he saw that the spirit of Vitality was still intact. When he had first appeared, Alexius thought he glimpsed a terrifying anger in the man's eyes. Now he wondered if he'd been imagining things. "And I met some old gods from before Yggdrasil's planting."

"Hm. Nothing unusual for you, then. And still you could not spare the time to see an old friend?" The spirit clicked its tongue. "I was looking forward to seeing your apprentices, you know."

"They're right here!" Cale said, pushing his apprentices forward. "Here. This is Damien, Leo, Flia, and Syphus. Damien's a dreadshade and the inheritor of your Legacy I told you about. Leo has a connection with Asterion, Flia technically has a fragment of the Leviathan's power, and Syphus was made by the Named mythology Sisyphus."

Alexius's jaw dropped open, and he scrambled to reattach it. His apprentices were what? Two were connected to a Monolith, and two were connected to one of the Named? That was impossible. How had he not known about any of this?

"And once more, you are surrounded by legends in the making," the spirit of Vitality said, letting out a deep, booming laugh. "Yet you claim you do not do this on purpose?"

"I don't! It just happens."

"Indeed. And the other mages with you? A team of exceptional but average mages, or are they all legends in their own right?"

Alexius's gaze darted to the Brightscale mages gathered with Cale Cadwell Cobbs, and he let out a strangled, choking sound that should not have been capable of emerging from a skeleton such as him.

That was Headmaster Akkau, the Dragon of a Thousand Cores. Next to him was Sternkessel, a Greater Indictment and guardian of the Inverted Spires, whose power alone had prevented Alexius from collecting the Abyssal One within them. Alone, Alexius had relics that could deal with them, but together? His Hunters had reported that they had drifted apart! They were holding hands!

And then there was Kryva Salkis, Empress of Tea. Alexius knew her name and face because he had been to her tea shops. She managed what was practically an empire of them across all three major continents on Utelia. There were rumors that she even had an outpost in the Corrupted Lands, though no mage had ever managed to prove the fact.

She was a legend, for her tea was the only tea that could be enjoyed across all species. Even undead could visit her shops. Many of them had lost their ability to taste or enjoy mortal pleasures, but somehow her tea could bridge that gap—when they drank her tea, even if it spilled down their spines or emptied across dead flesh, they could taste the flavor. They could smell its aroma, feel its warmth.

Kryva would surely ban him from her shops, if she was affiliated with Brightscale. Alexius's knees felt weak at the thought.

And behind Kryva! Who was that? Her armor was familiar. He'd studied the dark histories for clues on how to bind creatures from outside the Realms, and he had seen her picture repeated across the pages of history, always associated with... was that the personal guard of the Pastel Queen? The famous Dark Warrior who had named herself Eviscerator? She was supposed to be dead! How could she have been associated with Brightscale?

The more Alexius stared at the group of mages arrayed in front of him, the more nervous he got. He was glad he no longer had a bladder, or he would surely have emptied it. Each of those faces were recognizable. How had he never realized that they were associated with Brightscale? Had the Red Commander just—never told him? That was preposterous! This was the exact sort of thing he needed to know!

Valen Graystalk, the Mage Killer, known for taking out even archmages with just the basic Standard Array spells. He was notoriously quick with his magic and had a focus for his magic that not even his own research had been able to replicate. Alexius had contingencies for him, but the mages he'd hired to act as those contingencies had been on guard outside.

Tarbloom, the Tamer of the Endless Deep, who had begun as a tar slime and somehow managed to force an evolution into a biome ooze. They had earned their name by somehow calming and taming an eight-headed hydra that had emerged from the Endless Deep before it could destroy one of the border towns in Aersheld. How that was possible, no one knew. The monsters of the Deep were known to be impossible to study and make sense of. But Tarbloom had disappeared before anyone could question how they'd done it.

They had reappeared in Brightscale? Why had no one informed him?

Alexius's gaze landed on the vinewalker standing there glaring, and Alexius flinched. That was Thorn, the Forest-King, whose power could instantly transform a landscape. He was known for both his foul moods and his ability to control every aspect of an enormous battlefield, all at once.

Standing at the side was Featherstrike, the Glyphfinder, who was said to be able to enchant in moments what would take others weeks or months to inscribe. It was said that each of his feathers held a carefully designed spatial spell. Alexius was paranoid and had a dozen contingencies, but Featherstrike supposedly had well over a thousand laid into his feathers...

Alexius shivered as his gaze landed on Solsburn, the Sunbearer, whose sorcery allowed him to invoke and imbue his weapons with the powers of the stars themselves. Any rumor laid upon the stars, any power attributed to them, it could all be imbued into his blade.

This was ridiculous. How was he supposed to manage this many mages by himself? Why were there so many legends here in the first place? Brightscale Academy was supposed to be just another magic academy! If they harbored this many legends, surely he would have known! They were in talks with Orstrahl all the time, and Alexius was practically the advisor to the King. How had none of this ever made its way to him?

The spirit of Vitality and Cale were still talking to one another, although Alexius had deliberately tuned it out. He had no idea what they were talking about now, but their conversation was starting to sound oddly charged, and he didn't need a repeat of what he'd already endured listening to for the better part of twenty minutes.

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Instead, he began plotting an escape. He had contingency upon contingency, and while he was confident that his defenses would be enough, he always made sure to keep for himself a way out. His ritual circle should have been inviolable, but with this many mages of such absurd reputations all intent on getting to him, he would prepare his last resort.

Just in case.

Alexius held with him one of the oldest relics in Orstrahl's vault. It was an original and not something he'd made himself, but Alexius credited it with much of his inspiration and some of the best ideas he'd had in his years of refining his relic-crafting techniques.

On the outside it seemed to be nothing but an old rope, and whatever power it once held no longer seemed to work. On the inside, however, every single one of its fibers was inscribed with layers upon layers of some complex glyphic language he had never seen and couldn't even begin to translate.

His study of that one rope had unveiled so much to him about the nature of artifacts and relics. It had enabled him to craft his own soul-anchor and begin the process of shedding his mortal form, even, although Alexius refused to call himself a lich. That was far too crude a name. He preferred simply being a living skeleton, like all the other natural undead.

In any case, through his decades of study, Alexius was certain he knew why the relic didn't work and how to fix it. He was also certain that if he did, he could fling it out and give it a single tug, and it would transport him somewhere safe, so that none of these mages would be able to find him.

Quietly and discreetly, he conjured a tiny fiber of his own, bridging that single gap that caused the artifact to fail—

—only to scream when he looked up and saw a tiny, furry demon looking straight at him through the boundary of his ritual circle. She was balanced precariously on her cane, leaning casually over his shoulder and pretty much inches in front of his face. All that kept them apart was the ritual, which sparked and sputtered at her presence.

Alexius was dimly certain the circle should not have been doing that.

"Oh, dear me," Professor Imrys said. "I wondered where that old thing went. Goodness, no wonder you've been going wild with these artifacts of yours. I wondered why every Red Relic we found had such shoddy craftsmanship, but I suppose if you've been basing them on that, you can't really be blamed, can you? I must have made that thing centuries ago."

Alexius let out a sound that could have been a whimper. This was—this was the Demon Artificer, wasn't it? He'd studied her work. He'd admired her! He hadn't imagined he would be stepping on her territory—was she mad at him? Was she the one who had gathered all these mages against him? But she should have been proud of him! He was continuing her work!

Only she had called his work shoddy. Alexius could have shriveled up in his shame, if not for the fact that his survival instincts were screaming rather loudly and overwhelming everything else.

She leapt off her cane and tottered back toward Cale and the other mages. "Well, my dears, I'm afraid that circle is quite impossible to breach without also killing him," she told them loudly. "Though I don't suppose we're too worried about that! He's done quite enough, that man. Cale? Would you do the honors?"

Cale nodded. He was a lot more relaxed now, it seemed, and yet something in his eyes made Alexius take a step back when their gazes met.

"Instructor Solsburn," Cale said. "May I borrow your blade? And Damien, I'd like to borrow a bit of your Verdant Flame, if you would."

Alexius would have swallowed, if he'd had the throat for it. He backed right up against the boundary of his own circle, to the amusement of the spirit of Vitality, who placed a warm hand upon his shoulder.

"I suspect you should remain still," the spirit told him. "This could be quite painful, otherwise."

"This is a bluff," Alexius managed, staring shakily at the mages, none of whom were breaking eye contact with him. "It's—it's a trick of some kind. You can't break this ritual when it's in progress. It's a binding ritual! There's the power of a Monolith behind it?"

"Quite," Cale said. "But Damien here has inherited the Source of Vitality's Legacy, remember?"

He took Solsburn's sword in one hand and grasped the ember of Damien's proffered flame with the other, then ran the Verdant Flame across the length of the blade with the other. His gaze flickered briefly to the spirit of Vitality as he did this, a wicked smirk sparking in his eyes, before they fell back upon Alexius.

"Prepare yourself," Cale said softly. Alexius felt the power of the Gift surging around the human, and his senses caught a high-tier spell coalescing within his core.

Alexius Kevonan might have caused the death of thousands, in his ambition. He had used others as though they were objects and playthings, with no care as to their own feelings on the matter. In front of his court and his Hunters he played the ancient, indomitable mage, who was never cowed no matter the strength of his opponents.

But there was a reason he never confronted them directly. There was a reason he had so many pawns to do things in his stead, a reason he had brought the Red Commander back into existence and bound his Sentinels.

Alexius Kevonan, for all his genius, was also a coward. If he was not, he might perhaps have realized that the mages arrayed before him were manipulating him into doing exactly what they wanted him to do.

Instead, he let out a terrified shriek and half-sobbed as he reached for his contingency rope, tossed it out, and yanked, letting the spell envelop him.

The last thing he saw was the ritual boundary collapsing as he was ripped away, the bond instantly severed by his disappearance. It was the greatest loss he had ever experienced, and he could have curled up to cry if he'd had the tear ducts to do so.

At least he was alive, though. It would take time, but he tried to comfort himself with the thought that all was not over.

He could always rebuild, so long as he was safe.

Alas, while Alexius had indeed repaired the old relic and successfully activated it, he had failed to ask the crucial question of where that relic would take him.

Cale and the others stared at the smoking remains in the center of the ritual circle.

"Well," Cale said. "That was easy. Can't believe we got him to do that. I didn't even need to evolve that spell."

"What did you do, anyway?" Leo asked, frowning. "I've never seen that magic before."

"It's less what I did and more what Professor Imrys hinted we should do," Cale said, inclining his head toward the mouse professor, who nodded happily at him. "He had an artifact with him he was going to use to escape if we broke through."

"But we could have broken through," Syphus said, and Cale nodded.

"Yes," he said. "Interrupting a binding ritual from the outside has consequences, though, usually on the person being bound. It was easier to make him interrupt his own spell."

It was clear from Leo's expression that he thought nothing about that interaction had been easy. "Right," he said dubiously. "Where did he go, then?"

"Fire dimension, dearie," Imrys said. Cale nodded. He'd felt a glimmer of the power of the elemental plane in the same moment the Grand Magus had disappeared.

"The fire dimension," Leo repeated. "...Why did you create a rope leading to the fire dimension?"

"Well, I wanted to see if I could, my dear," Professor Imrys said pleasantly. "Why else would a mage do anything? It is an elemental plane, you know. One cannot normally transport themselves to an elemental plane, outside of visions visited upon them by an Elemental Shrine."

Cale wondered, idly, how Vesuvius was doing. He would have to find a way to communicate with him, lest he be too confused by a smoking skeleton showing up in his realm.

"This is why fear magic doesn't work on us," Leo muttered, shaking his head. "Does that mean he's dead, or...?"

"Oh, goodness, no," Professor Imrys said. "I would never make a relic that would kill its user. He'll be granted [Feel the Flames]! It's a variant of [Fire Immunity] that allows you to feel the heat... hmm. I may not have thought that one through. In any case, I believe he is a form of lich, and his soul-anchor is somewhere within Orstrahl. He'll be fine, I'm sure!"

"Why would you create a variant of [Fire Immunity] that lets you..." Leo trailed off mid-question, shaking his head. "You know what? Never mind."

"You did evolve a spell, though?" Damien asked Cale, ever-curious. "What was the spell?"

"[Verdant Blade]," Cale said, glancing up at Vital with a faint smirk. "I've seen it in action before."

"Gross," Flia grumbled. "Can you flirt later? We still have Abyssal Ones to save."

"We will assist you in collecting them," Headmaster Akkau said. "It is possible Yra has not finished her battle with the Red Mother. If so, we will help her, and then we will reconstitute the Abyssals. Stern, could you help those of us that wish to return to Brightscale?"

"Of course," Sternkessel said, his rings spinning slightly as he bowed.

"Will stay," Thorn grunted, narrowing his eyes at Vital, though he said nothing further. Cale coughed awkwardly and stepped between them.

"Let me finish the introductions," Cale said, giving Thorn a reassuring pat on the shoulder before smiling up at Vital. "I'm sure you'll want to know what Damien's been up to with the Verdant Flame. We were also hoping you would have some advice for him."

"I would be glad, as always, to offer my assistance," Vital rumbled. "It is good to see you again, Cale Cadwell Cobbs."