Sorcerer from Another World

Thunder cracked above and muffled the chatter of villagers. No wonder they talked, for they flew. We all hovered on my self constructed large, metal plate with dark skies above and desolate land below. White mist expanded and obscured my floating metal barge from sight. My magic structure held the villagers and us aloft. I carried them northwards, on my own conjuration made by the Sorcerer of Tomorrow, otherwise known as Damain Grey. Me.

Iris, my beloved, brown haired beauty and the last Druid south of Alba, pointed off to a flash of red the distance, “Follow that girl!”

She then went back to muttering to her red breasted robin, who presumably had informed her. I was familiar with the idea of woman and bird communication at this point. I had been in this fantasy world for a few days. Though, I was not quite sure I was comfortable with it. Something about the way those black bird eyes stared at me sometimes.

I shifted us off course from our journey north and away from the running river. In response, the villagers all started chatting and gossiping about what was happening. One of my other lovers, a raven haired lush vision at my side - armoured from head to toe - spoke up.

“Quiet, we are investigating a runner. Once we have them on board we will resume our previous course to Elkilbour.”

“Apologies, milady Morgana.”

Morgana, my beloved witch and exiled heir to the Pendragon name.

“They have impressive magical power. Whoever they are.” Umbra said, another witch and lover of mine and the most problematic of the bunch after her act of human sacrifice and possession by an evil eye. The malice of said eye was contained for now.

“Engage.” Morgana said to me with a deft flick of the wrist. Accidentally, quoting the famous 20th century fictional captain.

Sailing closer, I caught a glimpse of a figure in a red cloak riding a crimson horse.

She wielded a hefty halberd and I could see an aura of magic encasing her. Her overall impression gave me the vibes of a cross between Red Riding Hood and Lu Bu.

It was only a brief glance before she disappeared inside a cave. Noise, a dull racket of some kind could be heard echoing from within.

“Who is going inside?” I asked.

“You can’t all go! Who will protect the floating ship?” One of the survivors said with concern.

“We will not abandon someone to the weather or worse.” Iris declared.

I nodded in agreement and decided the matter.

Morgana spoke up, “Umbra and I will stay. Iris you can track the girl and Damian can quickly deal with any trouble. He can make sure you go in and leave fast.”

“Agreed.”

Samiya, Iris' new Druid apprentice, tucked on her master's robes. She looked up with wet eyes, and a shake of her head.

Iris took her hand, “Samiya, stay here. We will be back soon, okay.” She said to the little girl.

“No.” Samiya whined with wide-eyed worry about losing what little stability she had.

“Damian will be with me. No one can defeat him. You know that, right?”

She nodded.

Iris hugged her. “I will see you soon.”

“Okay.” The little orphan sobbed.

Iris and I jumped off the raft and walked inside the cave. A marking on the interior wall struck me as familiar.

“A druid cave.” Iris said, noticing my reaction to the symbol. “We have many dotted all over the land. Many on sacred sites and some to help us when travelling. Most are in ruins or abandoned now. There are so few of us left even in Alba, and if the stories are true the circle was at a shadow of its might even before the shattering of the Seelie Court.”

I nodded and gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed back with a small, sad smile. Anything I could think to say sounded patronising so I stayed silent.

We walked further in.

It was a maze of tunnels made of moss-covered stone with engraved symbols carved into the walls. Clean air filtered through and graced my nose as we walked through the dark corridors. A variety of plants grew more than what could ever be native to the cave - we were in a garden of sorts: one made by druids.

Iris directed us on the path of the red-clad, running girl with little difficulty.

“I can see her markings and the way is simple to navigate if you know what the symbols mean.”

“Sure.” I said with a smirk. May as well drop me in the Sahara desert and ask me to walk out. I was no good at finding my way around without a phone.

The noise grew more distinct the further we travelled inside. The sounds of battle and the screams of the dying. We hurried along.

Ahead was a corpse or so I thought. The person stood up in odd, unhuman movements.

They were wounded. No dead. Their guts dragged across the ground, bones were shattered and blood leaked from dozens of wounds. A dead refugee perhaps. But they had risen again.

I thought it was undead. But a check of its magic revealed it was something different. A different kind of magic that had the same result. No, far more powerful than the undead I had faced near Ferisdarm. It was like comparing the actual strength of an ant to an elephant.

“Invaders.” said a voice far deeper and louder than any creature the size of a human could speak. “I am Ciuthach, your power Sorcerer has disturbed my grave. I say no more!”

It did not come from the corpse, but emanated from the entire cave.

The corpse shuffled forward.

“No way.” I said, deep in denial.

It was my first regret of the encounter.

A single hand hit my chest, and I was flung backwards. Crushed into the tunnel wall, the air leaves my lungs. I gasped, it was like I had been hit by a giant that was a skyscraper tall. But, I blinked and gagged as I took another punch to the gut.

It really was a shambling corpse falling apart. A stiff breeze should have been able to knock it over. Instead, Iris whacked it with her clubbed staff and it was unaffected.

She fell to her knees, her arms shaking and the staff falling from her group. Her reaction made no sense, but this entire encounter had been bizarre.

I take another punch to the chest. My superhuman durability holds, but I was dazed from the impacts and I fell to the floor.

Then, Iris and I acted as one.

Lightning and flame coiled together. Iris and I weaved our destructive magic together in a show of force that would have made Maradon wince from the impact.

But…the stubborn creature endured. Somehow. The strange magic that was puppeting it granting the dead body resistances far beyond what its flesh could give.

The creature reached out and grabbed Iris at the temples. It pulled back its arm and threw her off further down the tunnel. She bounced, cried out and came to a stop. She struggled up, but like me seemed dazed by the pain.

The sheer strength it could wield was immense.

“This is not your fight, druid. Do not step into matters that are not your concern.” The voice belittled.

This time I attacked the magic and not the corpse. I ripped it magic off and shredded it with blades of magic.

It seemed to do the trick parting magic from flesh.

The corpse collapsed.

“A fine battle, strange sorcerer. Do treat my descendant well.” The cave shaking voice said nothing again.