Sorcerer from Another World

Ogres charged up the hill carrying massive wooden shields. Redcaps hid behind the wooden barriers, both sides pelted arrows at the other to little effect. 

Our warriors started to draw swords and adjust spears as the Ogres approached the gates. The blue dye marked our warriors as brave and ready to die.

I levitated on my metal plate rising above the conflict. The half-moon at my back shone enough light to see the ugly monsters.

I sensed there were no mages among them. This was a scouting force used to test the defences and keep the besieged warriors tired and scared. That meant two things, one that there was a strategic mind or many to contend against and secondly that the Unseelie didn’t have endless numbers.

 We were outnumbered but they had limits. For one they couldn’t afford or at least motivated magic casters to join a scouting party leading at best a fruitless endeavour and at worst a suicide run.

I rained down the power of the storm. Lances of lightning seared through exposed Redcaps and Ogres. They screamed with fear and rage. Our warriors cheered. I conjured a dozen rods of steel high above in the clouds each as thick as a Greek column and rained them down with the speed of a bullet and the force of gravity. 

They shattered their shields and pulverised the ogres cowering behind them. The wood splintered and stabbed in the Unseelie. Freshly exposed, our warriors loosed their arrows killing an ogre and several Redcaps. I had an array of conductors already set with a thought I fired off a bolt of lightning from my staff and let it dance between them frying rows of Redcaps and crippling ogres.

The remaining few fled. The Unseelie had been beaten. Our warriors cried out drunk with dizzying joy. They cheered for their sorcerer. I levitated down and checked among the warriors. A few bore wounds caught by stray arrows. One was dead, an iron point through the eye. Three more were injured but I healed them easily enough.

One dead, and it was one to many. For all my offensive power, our defences were far too weak. We were vulnerable. It didn’t matter if my group and I survived if Ferisdarm fell around us. I was their champion, I felt like a piss poor excuse for one looking down at the corpse. Remembering the dead. Marius and all the others on our way here.

I walked and talked among the warriors, receiving their gratitude humbly as I could. I was grinning. The rush of power was better than any video game. I laid waste to them.

I feel like I barely broke a sweat. Using metal and electricity with magic takes me so little energy. Morgana was there but when she saw everything was fine she went back. 

I stayed and I shared a drink with the warriors. The pain of meeting new people was eased when they were all treating me like a hero. They knew my name and respected me.

It was about an hour later, slightly tipsy but eager to get back to girls that a new face came over to talk. He was a large, barrel-chested man with warm amber eyes and long unkempt, greying hair. He carried a weathered staff that had been cut with many sharp edges over the years and he was covered in a frayed cloak and tunic. 

He came alone but the eyes of the warriors flickered with recognition, and they bowed respectfully but not deeply when they spotted the figure. As he approached, I noticed he wore a gold broach in the shape of an oak leaf.

“Sorcerer, we should talk.” He said bluntly.

 I matched glares both staring unblinkingly for a few moments.

“Sure. But who are you?” I asked.

“My name is Bomdall. Remember it well. I am a Druid from the silver forests, I followed Tighearnach before he was smote by the son of Jupiter. The important question, however, is who are you?”

“Damian Grey. As you observed, Sorcerer. I am also, Slánaitheoir to the Druid Iris and Paragon to Morgana Pendragon.”

“Damian Grey? Never heard of you.” I gave no answer. “No matter, you’re here now. I will get to the heart of it, what be your plans, Sorcerer?”

“To live, protect my companions I have little in the way of ambition, Druid. I already am able to provide of for most my needs with what I have once this conflict comes to an end.”

“A sorcerer with no plans? What you have in magic you seem to lack in the cunning of your kind.” He mocked.

“I see more than you think. Your intentions are as clear as your ill will. The affairs of this world mean little to me. Yet, the Unseelie interfere greatly and choose themselves to be my enemy. The Unseelie do not bother me as much as the Romans. I know little of them but hear much of their power.”

“Do not underestimate the Unseelie, they have eyes everywhere and hands close ready to cause mischief and mayhem.” Bomdall replied curtly. “But I understand your intent. The God of War has sacked the green reaches of Tír na nÓg. The land of eternal summer fades into the long twilight. Should he set sail for Albion there will be no hope to escape the dominion of Rome.”

“Is he truly so great?” I asked in disbelief.

“I understand your doubt. You are a great sorcerer of that there is no doubt, but what your magic can slay a God, he who is the bane of humanity, blood-drenched stormer of cities. Beg the weavers of destiny that his fury be satisfied with the destruction of the Seelie Court.”

“Then our fate is in the hands of a mad god.” I concluded grimly rubbing my chin between index finger and thumb thoughtfully.  

“Indeed, the arrogant fool might spare us where his superior sister Minerva would not. The warriors of Halastin on the mainland hold her attention.”

“It seems we have more enemies than I realised.” I said anxiously.

“That is why it is prudent to choose your allies and enemies wisely. Do not make a foe out of those that could be a friend.” He warned sternly.

“Or I simply must grow in power until there is none that dare to threaten, and peace remains the only course to choose.”

“Be that as it may, I’d like to recommend handing over Iris to me and well…”

“Well what.” I spat out.

“Kill the Pendragon bitch.” He said bluntly.

I locked eyes with Bomdall. Thunder rumbled in the skies above as storm clouds gathered in response to my simmering fury. The shadows thickened as the half-moon was covered by the dark clouds. His eye twitched under the stress and for a moment he averted his gaze from my own.

“What powers she wields comes from ancient and foul magicks; she is foretold to cause misery. While she lives, she is a potential threat to Arthur Pendragon, the best hope for unity against the Romans.”   

“No.”

“Think about it, Sorcerer. You will no longer be troubled to care for Iris, I will take that burden and with the Witch dead you will secure the favour of the most powerful man in the land.”

I leaned in close and said my mouth close to his, while I kept eye contact.

“No. Ask again, and you will be dust on the earth. Leave.” I growled.

He shrugged and walked away. Seemingly unconcerned with the threat.

What an asshole.

I give him credit he had an impressive poker face. The bold bastard dared to make those suggestions even after I had told him I was their Champion. Should I kill him? He threatened Morgana’s life. It seemed silly to suggest. I’m just Damian, one of millions of callers. The first time I ever wanted the police and they don’t exist here.

I pondered to myself sitting alone. The warriors who had overheard the conversation seem to be giving me a wide berth out of either respect or fear. Perhaps both.

For all I really knew he was right. Perhaps, Iris would be better off under an experienced mentor. A replacement for the close friend she lost. The issue with Morgana proved much more troublesome.

In a world where magic is real, how much stock could I put in a prophecy? I have never even heard it myself. Yet, Iris and Bomdall treated it with the utmost severity though for different reasons. I had no wish to make enemies but threats seem to crop up every day.

Still, I am glad I didn’t try to be friends with that insufferable ass.

I should head home. I wanted to see my lovers again.

A burst of joy in my heart. The dark clouds parted as I released them.

I felt a little strain from casting magic, but by investing and developing my body's capabilities I seem to have reduced the fatigue of casting magic as well as improved physical stamina.

 I felt sleepy, I still needed to rest and dream. The weather was mild and typical of spring. I was nevertheless grateful for my cloak which kept me warm against the cool night air. 

I may have made an enemy of a literal god, but at least the stars populated the sky like gleaming gemstones. It was only after coming here that I saw the stars without the obscuring fog of light pollution. 

Beautiful.