Sorcerer from Another World

He flew down and gripped my throat. He squeezed but he did not have the strength to choke. My hardened skin prevailed and muscles taunted resisting the suffocating crushing grasp. My hand unfurled into a claw-like grip, and I blasted a stream of magic into his stomach. 

We broke apart his long talons scraping against my skin. We each ignited our magical shrouds, Maradon of shadow and mine of lightning. 

Maradon hand flicked and a blue orb dropped and expanded. All around, shades of blue extended out in looping spiralling streams that flashed constantly. I glanced up, down and to the sides. I guessed we were both inside one of his orbs.

I frowned and looked to Maradon, “What have you done?”

A clawed hand gestured to the encompassing blue orb, “I have opened a gateway.”

I bite my teeth hard enough I wondered if they would be crushed, “Why?”

“Maradon using the ways of brutality failed once, I shall not fail! I cannot fail!”

The blue flashes repeated rapidly. 

“You should have stayed away. You dare attack twice!”

“I dare! I alone dare! See how you fare in Elfame, Sorcerer!”

The blue orb sucked our bodies in, and yanked us out of Tír na nÓg. There was a brief burst of technicolour light as we broke through the strata between dimensions. But, it was only brief as we shifted into the next realm up. 

We were beyond the realm of the physical now. It was more of magic than matter. 

I was as far from my homeworld of Earth, farther than ever before. Spirals and ribbons of blue, purple and silver stretched out the length of galaxies. Great planets of all shapes in colours of yellow, orange and gold circled and in the distance were stars black and white the only voids in a universe bursting with colour. 

My physical body, that mortal coil fell back as we crossed over. It was cast off and abandoned.

I glanced at my new shape that was an amorphous blue blob with dull, golden edges of a rough, flaky texture. My body was not of flesh, but of pure mana. Not like my human form. In thinking of my body, I shifted so I bore the shape of me with my earthly clothes. 

I looked at Maradon and he bore the shape of dozens of long tubes like a picture of bacteria of impossible size. 

He morphed as I did into the shape of his physical body. It was composed of two mutual parts. Mana and the ectoplasm that made up a spiritual form. It was his astral body, as was mine. Whereas his mana form lacked the brilliance or depth of blue as mine. His encasing was a thick, smooth and bright gold.

The Lord of Brutality had great spiritual form. Far greater than mine.  

We faced off in blue-purple deep space with our supernatural bodies. We bore our enchanted items. On me, was my armour and staff. His spear, dagger and orbs. Beneath us was the tear from where we came. 

I peered through the opening into a gaping chasm of black dotted with white lights and a single visible planet of green and blue. 

We battled over the rip between worlds. A great clash of sorcerous might where I reigned supreme. But, I thought and overcame a mere double. 

His lips curled, “You are weak, and Unseelie are strong. It is time to bow before your new master. Let me witness your worst memories.”

All faded to black.

On the floor of his room, Sid stared at the ceiling with blank eyes, yellowed skin and by his side half a dozen empty pill packets. I don’t remember anything else about what happened on that day. Only that moment. 

The world shifted. I shivered. Was it from grief or the cold wind? I heard the pouring rain bounce off the casket. Sid always hated the rain. I should have told them to postpone. I couldn’t find the will to tell them. It was done. He wasn’t even that heavy or if he was I couldn’t tell.

My hair was soaked, but I felt only a mild irritation or some other emotion I couldn't tell. Perhaps strangling the person next to me and then myself would make me feel better? Was this all there was to life? You love someone and then they die leaving you with the wreckage? Were we made to suffer? 

I don’t know. 

The shape of a familiar face. Two of them. One with eyes the colour of chestnut, the other with green glare. They were faint, smushed and with parts missing like a half finished painting. They lacked the details of my earthly memory where the rain struck with a force like thunder and the grief seemed fresh and raw as the day it had nestled in my heart. It was all more vivid and intense than the real event. 

Those two faces that rose from a happy feeling. A pleasure rushing forward questioning misery. A joy that brought an ease and exhilaration. A swift and sweet pounding of the heart. In recognising, and being aware of their shapes I felt a desire to live, laugh and love.   

I blinked back. The golden edges around my astral body glowed with a new brightness. Equal to Maradon’s. A lattice of mana encasing my form shattered apart. Maradon scowled. 

He extended his hand once more, “Perhaps a return visit back home?”

I hunched over the bright blue screen and shifted my butt against the hard plastic chair. Tap, tap, tap my fingers stroked the keys. I navigated the ancient software to log the whiney weirdo’s complaint. I soothed them and asked the needed questions. 

They chittered chattered back. I forced a smile as my manager was liable to bring it up if I was not cheery enough. At least this client was not horrid. The next one was. 

The bus was cramped and I wondered if the person next to me could smell the stink of my sweat. I had to rush to get the bus you see. Jogging down the icy path at the lowest of the winter’s chill. I exhaled and my breath misted over the window.  

I ate alone in my box-like room with a hot water bottle for warmth. Noodles. Quicker to boil water than to think of what to cook. I ate them and licked up the juices with relish. A nice cup of tea was the bright spot of the day. The warmth and sweet sugar gave me a brief shot of joy over the bleakness of my existence. I turned on my personal, if rather old and small tv and thumbed over to streaming app. 

Then the day repeated. I was powerless to change my circumstances. Got in a cycle of having to pay bills. Winter never gave way to spring. I was sipping tea and rewatching some generic fantasy show when I remembered.

The joy of casting magic, the rush of power. I thought of all I had done: the exhilaration of making and fighting within a storm cloud, the pride of crafting armour to protect the women I care for, and the rush that comes from flying through the air. The feeling of wielding magic, of being powerful and important. I imagined all I could do with magic. I had limitless power, I could wish for any future I willed.  

I was no longer the subject of power. I was power. I rose and looked down upon this projection of my life on Earth. I felt critical at first of my past self. But, I learned that the pain I felt was not my fault. I remembered the kindness I had been treated with and wanted to try it myself. I deserved to be seen with unconditional positivity. 

I gazed down with compassion at my emotionally crushed self. He needed all the strength, kindness and wisdom that could be offered. He received a little kindness from the parents, but they forced independence on him. He wasn’t ready, not after Sid. He had tried, and maybe things might have changed. But, nothing could be as great as life with Iris and Morgana. Even the troublesome Umbra and whatever potential lay in store with Tulisa. 

I left my depressing life on earth for a second time. No offer was made, I chose with eyes wide open to escape.  

Two visages appeared before my unwaking eyes. Grey and white streaks through black hair, a face more familiar to me than my own. My Father. And long brown hair that touched her shoulder on a stern, determined expression. My Mother. 

“We thought you were dead.” cried my Father.

“No one came to the funeral. Your father couldn’t bear it. I stood alone, but now I see you are alive. You left us to join some fantasy tv show!”

“I’m sorry son, I wasn’t able to help you. It is all my fault.” 

Those were the last words I heard of Maradon crafted visages of my parents. I was free for the moment. Free, but wracked with guilt.