Dreamwhisper

Chapter 3

“Wake up, stupid human.”

Silas cracked open his eyes to see needle-like sharp teeth inside a giant smile and jumped, falling off the couch. “Holy shit Xavi! What in the hells is wrong with you, you stupid imp?!”

Xavi let out a high-pitched laugh, “The cowardly human thinks I’m the stupid one. No time to pray to your god's stupid human. Those two abandoned you, and it’s time to decide again how you will claim your power. Will you forever be a coward, or will you fight for what is yours by right as the marked one?”

Silas paused with frustration, climbing off the floor. “First, do not ever do that again. Second, I am not a coward; the others dragged me outside. Third, what fight and what mark?”

“That’s four questions, stupid human, and the answer to them all is the same… you will see.” Xavi laughed hard again and disappeared.

“Really? Invisibility?” Silas asked without receiving a response.

He looked around the small, abandoned cottage and found it surprisingly empty. The two he had met the night before were gone, and so were the piles of random goods except for a wrapped package on the table. He walked over, picked up the package, and found a note underneath.

Silas,

Sorry for not waiting around. We had to expedite our travels. If you need work, meet in four days by the lake southwest of the wall.

K

Ps. You snore.

Moments later, he folded the note thoughtfully and placed it in his satchel on the floor. “After all these years, the last thing I will do is travel. I need to find more information about this book and symbols, then find a safe place to test my capabilities.” He opened the package Kara had left for him and found a small loaf of herb bread and cured game meat. ‘Kind of her to leave me some food, though,’ he thought as he dug in.

After finishing the meal, he sat on the couch and examined the sword that had appeared on his hip. It was not long, slightly longer than his arm, and surprisingly light for its size. It had a dark leather wrapped around it with a smaller but straight hilt. Down the length of the blade were several glyphs and symbols that seemed to be etched into the metal that exuded small bits of mana. He did not recognize the metal itself, but he had little knowledge of the craft. What he knew was that a master bladesmith created this. This was a fantastic blade with a perfect, dark edge that almost glowed in the darkened room.

He stood slowly, walked to a section of the room that was completely clear and entered a fighting stance. He swung the blade several times to get acquainted with it and was amazed at how comfortable it felt. Like he’d been using it for years, he went through several practice stances that he felt were right and, after an hour, finally stopped, breathing heavily. He wiped the blade down, slid it into its sheath, and placed it on the table.

Next, he opened the book.

He spent several hours studying the pages. Cover to cover, page to page. The illustrations were horrifying yet beautiful. They were so complex and powerful that he had difficulty looking at the images for too long without getting sharp pains in the backs of his eyes. The glyphs and languages were ones he’d never seen before, nor was he able to decipher any of them, but the magic flowing from the pages was awe-inspiring. He flipped back to the first page only to find it blank. He panicked.

“What the hells happened?” He started quickly fanning the pages, only to find all of them blank. When he tried to recall what was on the pages, he got a massive headache for his efforts, as if his memory was blocked. “Alright, what the hells is going on?” he shouted

“You’re making an awful ruckus. That’s what’s going on, friend.”

Silas spun around to see a man crouching in the back of the room through the hidden gap he entered the night before, followed by two others. All three men were dressed in dark leather from head to toe, with various weapons hanging from them. The first man had two daggers and several throwing knives placed over his torso. The others had a mix of small axes, throwing knives, and swords. They were almost a head taller than the first but had very slender builds that felt quick and agile, moving with light and soundless steps. The lower portion of their faces were covered, only showing their eyes and shaggy heads. The first man was shorter than Silas but built very stout and muscular. For a man of his size, he would have taken him for a warrior, but the way he glided away from the entrance like a stalking animal, there was no doubt he was well-versed in the quieter professions. He pulled his hood back and gave Silas a wide grin.

“I knew the twins had to have another, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Not a mage anyway. There was no way they could have pulled off half the shit they did without someone in the background. No, I knew it all along. You were a hard one to find, though. There really was no trace of you. If it wasn’t for your little fuck up at the inn last night and running around with the guards on your heels, we might never have found you. But everyone makes mistakes at some point.” He laughed, circling around.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, little mage: you’re going to keep your little spell hole shut so I don’t have to cut out your tongue, and you’re going to follow me to the boss. Then, after you return what you stole, we will decide whether we cut off your little dangly bits and let you go or cut you into little bloody pieces and salt the streets with your corpse. I’d prefer just to let my boys cut you up here and now and be done with it, but the boss wants his prize back. Now, you seem like a brave man and all, messing with the likes of that massive innkeeper, but let’s leave the bravery for the bucket heads and the heroes; what do you say mage?”

Silas looked around the room for options. His sword was close by, but he did not feel confident against the three rogues set up for a pincer maneuver around him. These were killers, but he had not come all this way and lost everything to be sent to an early grave right as he achieved his goal. ‘I did want a way to test things out after all,’ he thought, giving him a nervous flutter in his gut. He decided to try and get out of this first.

“I have nothing to do with the twins,” Silas said confidently. He moved slowly back to the table as he spoke. “I met them hours ago when they pulled me from the inn after a misunderstanding. They gave me a place to sleep after the fiasco and were gone when I woke up. I have no issue with your boss, and I will not go anywhere because I have no “prize” for him.”

“Oh, so it’s the ‘I’m a dumb idiot in the wrong place at the wrong time’ play, is it? You know that won’t work with us, don’t you?” Shaking his head, “We’ve been watching for months, and we aren’t stupid enough to believe that predictable load of shit.” He nodded to the others, “Just kill him, and we can tell the boss he fought back. We can find the twins later.”

A breath later, one of the rogues poofed away in a cloud of dark grey smoke, and the other lunged forward with a cross-swing of an axe. Silas spun and snatched his sword off the table, sliding it from the sheath. The runic glyphs ignited just as the sword met the axe, but rather than meeting the axe, the sword passed right through. The axe head continued past him off to the side, nicking him across the bicep.

Before the man could recover and pull another weapon, Silas returned a downward slash and lopped off his arm at the elbow in a spray of blood right as the glyphs dimmed. Surprised, Silas kicked him as hard as he could in the chest and sent him tumbling across the room.

Pain exploded from his back.

On pure instinct, he dodged low and to the side. He turned and barely had enough time to parry a double thrust aimed where his heart was a moment ago.

From there, the fight really began.

The man was quick and agile like he expected him to be. He wove his two swords almost mockingly. Every slash and strike was met with a clash of steel. No matter how hard he pushed his fighting instincts, he couldn’t seem to break the man’s defenses. The last straw was when Silas lunged low, going for the kill shot, and the man smiled as he blocked with a downward double cross of his swords. With impossible agility, a booted foot found his face and staggered him back.

He felt like he was toying with him, and that really pissed him off.

With a little distance, he reassessed the man. While Silas was full of minor cuts and nicks, the man did not have a single scratch. It was impossible because he knew he made contact several times. He had been unable to get the glyphs to ignite again and was running out of ideas to end the fight. He opened his mana senses and noticed the man was burning a ton of mana. ‘He must be using a spell to boost his agility and toughness.’ he thought. ‘Two can play at that game.’

On a feeling, he thrust his open hand out and uttered a single word.

“BURN.”

Mana exploded through him. More pain than anything he had experienced in his life. He had never been able to expend this much mana at once before. Hells, the only spell he could truly cast before this was the simplest. The spell ravaged the channels down his arm, then green and purple flames burst from his hand. The man across from him was engulfed in the flames immediately. He screamed and dropped his swords, flailing in an attempt to extinguish the fire.

Silas jumped forward with a slash to the man’s midsection. The glyphs finally responded, flashing brightly, then blurred across the man’s body. Organs and blood splashed to the ground as the man finally fell to his knees. He swiped at his own face in an attempt to quell the fire, and, in the madness, he began peeling the skin off his face in handfuls before finally falling and lying still.

“That was unexpected,” Silas said, standing over the burned and gory remains of the man.

“Battle Mage!” Shouted the squat man. “You shouldn’t exist! The king will pay me a kart load of gold for you, but first, I’ll have fun with you for what you did to my men! Then you’ll beg for death once he gets his hands on you!” He charged at Silas with weapons in hand.

Xavi appeared before the man, and he stumbled backward, falling to the ground. “Demon!”

“My master is no Battle Mage. However, I can understand your ignorant human ways. My master is so much more.” With a wicked smile, Xavi reached over, picked the man up by his shoulders, and dug his claws in deep. The final rogue struggled to escape his grasp, but the imp pumped his wings harder to keep him off the ground. Only then did he finally use his needle-like teeth to rip out his throat. Spurting gurgles escaped from the man until Xavi finally dropped him in a pool of blood.

“Mmm. I had forgotten the taste of humans. So refreshing.” Xavi turned to Silas as he finished licking the blood from his fingers. “Master Dreamwhisper, finally, you’ve unlocked what you’ve become. Real power. Forbidden power. And the depth of this power will grow with you as you unlock the Grimoire. I will guide you in unlocking the contents; however, to do this, you must admit what you are. You know the word I speak of.” Xavi landed on the table. “Tell me what you are so we can truly begin.”

Silas looked around the room at the mangled and burned corpses on the ground. Beams of light showed through the cracks in the walls and boarded windows of the small, abandoned house. They seemed to gravitate to the bodies as if the gods were showcasing what he had done. He thought back to the Grimoire, and this time, it was not as painful to recall. He could not remember it perfectly, but a single word he had read became clearer and kept repeating in his mind.

“Warlock,” he whispered. The air shuddered with the proclamation, and a slew of questions entered his mind. “Xavi, we have a lot to discuss.”

“Yes, we do, master, yes, we do. Let us leave this place and begin our true journey. The road will be long, but we have work to do and little time to complete it. I will be with you the whole way, Master Dreamwhisper. You and I will burn a path through this world to achieve it.”