Sorcerer from Another World

Gliding on a metal plate, following Làidir's directions was as fun as any car journey. Wind blew through my hair and I smiled at the feeling of unlimited freedom that I could go anywhere I wished to.

There is only so much chit-chit people can come up with when driving. I had formed a new barge design about the length and width of a small bus with added safety rails and grips to stay atop. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was safe and fast.

Not used to being the driver I spent most of the journey avoiding crashing into trees, boulders and the like.

Làidir chose to ignore Iris and Morgana, but she wasn’t exactly conversational with me either. So, Iris and Morgana talked among themselves for a short while until Morgana napped her head resting in Iris’ lap. I swear, I almost died of envy.

Some time later after speeding forward faster than any horse, Làidir mentioned we were close. I was glad the journey was almost over.

At this point I felt like a glorified chauffeur for a cute, young couple. Envy, however, mixed with content at seeing them happy. I was too relaxed letting such nonsense into my head and ill-prepared for an attack.

“Above!” Iris screamed.

I felt a hand grip my throat and I was thrown like a ball off into the distance. Flapping through the air, I was booted to the earth easily over a mile away from the group.

Facing me was Mars Roman God of War. He had the same golden glow and his chosen weapons were a spear in one hand - with a sword at his waist - and a massive shield in the other.

He glared at me with eyes that were the colours of blood. His curly beard made him seem almost human in comparison to his eyes.

Tall and broad his shredded body seemed more like what I would expect from a fitness influencer than a real warrior. He wore no armour and I took the choice for the insult it was.

“A rather rude way to get some one on one attention. But I guess the only way a brute like you gets to fuck is through force. You could give all the coin in the world, but for a bastard like you the legs stay closed. Can’t say I’ll be any different. So, why don’t you piss off back to Rome and save yourself the humiliation.”

I’m not sure where my hurtful speech came from but it grew from one stinging barb to the next.

“You bark loudly, insolent fool. Will you scream with as much passion when I crush your heart?”

Negotiation never started, we spat out our meaningless, fighting words. I called up great swaths of mana and I imagine he prepared himself equally. Ready for a brawl to determine who was stronger and who got to shape the future of Alba, and Albion.

Staff hit spear. My metal - far superior to anything back home - weakened while divine steel clashed without damage. The spark of electricity from connecting with my staff, however, jolted the warmongering bastard. Stalling him for a brief breath.

I pulled my smaller barge to us and slapped him with it. He blocked the strike with his shield, but the force drove him back. His heel digging into the dirt, muscles bulging as his teeth gnashed together from the strain.

I kept slapping him with the metal barge. It was a crude tactic, but he was both stronger than me and his weapons were superior.

I stomped on the ground and shards of metal gouged out from the deep beneath the earth. The ones from the front were a feint. Along the metal barge slamming down from above. My third and real attack came from a razor-sharp spear that jutted out and stabbed him in the back.

The spike of metal failed to penetrate his skin. But the force caused a loud crack.

His feet were buried in the ground from using his spear arm to block the blow from above, and he was unbalanced from the metal spikes to the front.

I was pretty sure his collarbone had cracked from the attacks. Annoying how I couldn’t get a sense of his godly body. He still held his spear, but his arm wobbled and sure technique vanished.

“Ah! What a pain! Where did they spawn you from?” He complained.

“Who knows, maybe we are long lost brothers?” I quipped.

I had hurt him, I could win this.

He laughed hollowly, “To think, my sister, in her pretend wisdom, didn't think the Druids were worth the trouble.”

“You didn’t exactly prepare well yourself.” I pointed out.

The humour went from his eyes, “Be grateful for my mistakes. Be glad that I wanted some fun. You would already be buried if I treated you seriously.”

With those ominous words he walked straight and true and with each slow step he glowed and shone ever brighter building ever greater power

His slow pace was only a trick of the mind. The time between us collapsed into less than a second. In desperate (if clear) panic, I drew on my greatest ability - power over magic itself - and constructed a wall of magic energy.

Mars swung his shield. His bash connected with my mana barrier. A denotation of blinding energy blew up on contact.

Mars’ shield was stopped, but the force generated launched me flying back, my bones shattering into fragments and healing by the time I crashed another mile out. More bones broke and organs danced, tore and were repaired by magic.

I came to a stop alive, however sustained multiple mortal wounds and lived through the agonising pain.

Mars followed through and our subsequent blows shook the foundations of the entire island of Albion. Fields were ruined, villages wrecked and seas rose and drowned coastlines.

Spear and shield fell from his hand and my staff was launched away in the frenetic, frantic fighting.

Magic and Divine thrashed against one another.

We battled with beams to blast our barriers apart and any vulnerable met with strikes against the flesh.

Only Làidir was stronger in my experience, but she was far less durable and skilled than Mars. It was stupid how little my attacks seemed to affect him.

My amulet fed me the energy I needed to stay alive and keep in the fight. I couldn’t cheat my way out of this one for he had no astral form for me to rip apart.

His energy, while energy, was of a different form. One called divine and beyond my manipulation.

No matter how many hits I strike he shrugs them off.

Worse, I was more powerful, but I am not a fighter. Certainly not one with the experience of Mars.

I staggered and that was it. A punch to my sternum knocked the air from my lungs and I fell to my knees.

Mars held my head and squeezed.

I screamed.

Eyes bulging, weeping bloody tears and skull creaking under the godly might. The power of my enhanced body held; resisting his divine will.

He slammed me into the earth. The air knocked out from my body along with all my good sense too. Silencing my scream.

He watched at first as I gasped for breath on the ground.

Trembling hands and shaking legs, I gradually heaved my body upright. I stood up in spirit but my spine was hunched over below it wobbly knees and above blurring vision.

He dashed back, took a wide stance as he drew his spear back and threw it. The sharp point skewered through my chest rupturing my heart. Fluffing his earlier promise. He walked over, kicked my stomach and he pulled his spear free.

A rush of blood gushed out from my chest flowing down my stomach and pooling onto the grass at my feet.

I looked down at my body and clawed in front of my chest. I was so senselessly in pain I couldn't tell I was grasping at air at first.

One of my fingers went through the open hole in my chest where my heart was regrowing after complete obliteration. Scraps of flesh grew over and filled the gaping wound.

Pushed my flailing attempts to feel, I tripped over my feet. Luckily, my heart had regrown by the time I hit the ground.

I lived, having learned from the last time after Mereidth’s betrayal. A surge of power fueled rapid regeneration, saving my life.

“Impressive, I wonder if you can heal if I leave the spear inside?” Mars mused utterly confident in his victory. “You were more troublesome than the Fae. I’ll remember that mortal long after you're gone.”

I wondered for a moment where he had even gotten his spear back from? Fury took over and replaced curiosity, I started to pull on a lance of lightning that could blow the side off of a mountain.

He raised his spear.

A mountain cracker of a bolt struck the crown of his head.

He crawled on the ground. He shook from jolts of electricity; limbs flailing as mine had. Reducing him to a pathetic state that brought me no small measure of satisfaction.

“Using the powers of my father against me. How cruel the fates are, but you are a weak imitation to the power he wields. I have seen worlds cracked in twine with a hurl of his, so he could feast on their cores.”

He stood up with greater dignity than I had managed. I hated him for it.

Nostrils flaring with anger he said, “I can endure such a meagre strike.”

I called on my staff, but chance and a dragon intervened.

Dragonfire poured down from above and razed the God of War. Roasting his godly flesh he burned from head to toe in all-consuming dragonfire. He tried to run, but I blasted him with a stream of lightning from my staff.

The electrified stream jolted and slowed Mars. I kept him pinned while he was burning in a torrent of dragonflame.

Flame spurted, slowed and stopped as quickly as it had erupted. Flapping mighty wings on high the Dragon spotted giving us all a moment of reprieve.

Mars was barbecued, but not dead. Facing Dragon and Sorcerer (one who refused to die despite his best efforts), he spat.

“Next time, Sorcerer I will shove so much steel up your arse you’ll stay dead.” He wheezed.

He limped off as I stood my ground.

I, too, didn’t want to chance another fight even with a dragon’s aid.