Lost in Glory

  He did that. He sat on his throne, and sat, and waited, and nobody came.

  "Where are they?!"

  "I'll find out, Highness."

  "No, I'll find out myself!"

  The Emperor strode outside. He hurried, and the Master of Ceremony couldn't keep up. Outside he saw some sort of a knight facing the Archmage. His uncle and few others were behind the knight, and there were lots and lots of soldiers standing in respectful distance.

  "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

  ***

  Arthaxiom was pleased with himself. He felt like a true Hero now. He accomplished something. Something big! He saved countless human lives from an orcish horde! He duelled and defeated a fearsome orcish chieftain! Now he was going to face the one responsible for all that. He looked at the Tower of Magic. It was huge, but he was determined to tear it down stone after stone should need arise. It did not arise. When he approached, the gate opened and a person came out. Had to be the Archmage. Certainly looked like one. Maybe apart from all the ribbons.

  "A Hero, eh?"

  "A Hero indeed," Arthaxiom replied. "I, paladin Arthaxiom the Great, will end your reign of evil..."

  "Yes, yes, yes," the Archmage interrupted him. "You'll do all of that, yes, of course, all Heroes do. How about we fast forward to the part where I explain my plan? I'm too old to listen to Heroic speeches."

  "Very well. Speak what you will, before I swipe you from..."

  "Skip it!"

  "Ah. Right. Sorry, you evil, scheming... err... you know."

  The Archmage sighed. "I know. I'll make it short too, no need to bore everyone to death. My evil plan was to have orcs attack the Empire. The army was supposed to be left with nobody competent to lead it and fail horribly. Everyone would see how weak the Empire is. Then I would deal with the menace and take over, for the good of the people of course..."

  "What is the meaning of this?!"

  ***

  Marquis de Shaggysheep was standing a bit to the side. Observing. The future of the Empire was being decided right now. That was enough to keep him awake and interested. The Hero was facing the Archmage. They were talking... well, trying to talk. The Marquis assumed that that was what they were supposed to do. Declare their intentions and then have a go at each other or something. Should be interesting, although he wasn't sure how even the strongest warrior could withstand the most powerful magic user in the Empire.

  He heard a voice next to him. Young Mevrin, the one they had elected as new Emperor, came out of the castle and demanded to know what was going on. Shaggysheep felt that interrupting the Archmage's speech was a bad idea. Indeed, the old man stopped and turned to the Emperor.

  "Don't get in the way," he said, with malice in his voice. He raised his hand.

  Time slowed down for Marquis de Shaggysheep. With perfect clarity he remembered the prophecy that a madwoman gave him many, many years ago. That he would save the Empire. With perfect clarity he knew that in a second some sort of spell would emerge from the Archmage's hand. A spell aimed at the Emperor. Killing him most likely. The Marquis was standing a bit too far. He knew that. He knew that he would be unable to push his ruler aside in time. But instead he could get in the way and throw himself in front of Mevrin the First. Protecting him from the killing blow, possibly. Dying in the process, most certainly.

  ***

  The donkey cart was rolling through the streets of the capital. Townsfolk dancing on the streets and cheering were getting in the way. Saalteinamariva had to put a few on fire. Townsfolk running around trying to put themselves out didn't get in the way as much.

  Otto the peasant was happy. Sort of. He wasn't happy about having to ride all the way to the capital. He wasn't happy about being threatened to be put on fire every fifteen minutes or so. He also wasn't happy about the sorceress using her magic to keep both him and his donkey awake, alert and able to function. No sleep for them. The magical fire inside him was invigorating, but also weird and disconcerting. In fact the only thing Otto was happy about was that they were almost at their destination and that soon he'd be able to start his journey back home. After a good day's sleep of course. Or maybe three days.

  "Unholy carping skunking weasel!" the sorceress swore. Otto felt the temperature around him rise. She was getting angry again. "We need to get up there! NOW!"

  A very loud noise came from the castle. A lot of shouting followed.

  ***

  Saalteinamariva wasn't feeling well. Her leg was broken and probably a few ribs too. Fire couldn't heal that. Only thing she could do was to keep the peasant and his donkey going. Of course, she could have also searched for some sort of a healer, but she had no time for that. She had a sense of urgency. To get back to the capital as soon as possible. She wasn't quite sure why. As she was getting closer, she started feeling something. Not sure what exactly. Some... magic. Strange magic. Just as she crossed the capital, she understood what it was. She also felt something else. A powerful spell being cast. This wasn't good. She shouted at the peasant to hurry.

  The effect of the spell could be heard by ears of normal people, but for her it was much stronger. She felt it inside. Otto muttered something about a tired donkey, but she was having none of that. She needed to be up there, and 'now' wasn't an exaggeration. She focused on the donkey. This thing still could run, it just needed a bit more fire...

  The donkey eeyored and accelerated. The peasant started screaming. The sorceress grabbed onto something. The cart buckled on the uneven road. The donkey was going faster than a racehorse could. As they approached the castle, another problem emerged. The gate was packed with soldiers and the magically enhanced donkey had no brakes.

  ***

  "Don't interrupt," the Archmage said, lifted his hand, and a beam of light fired towards the Emperor. Mevrin screamed. The Marquis didn't even flinch. He calmly observed Mevrin the First getting hit in the chest with a loud bang and subsequently being composed into the castle wall. There was a lot of shouting and screaming.

  "Now that this is done, let's finish it before there are more distractions, shall we?" the Archmage said calmly, but somehow was heard above the commotion.

  "Very well, evildoer!" the paladin boomed. He unsheathed his sword, he raised his shield and he moved towards the old mage.

  The Archmage shot another beam of light. The paladin caught it on the shield. The shield held, but Arthaxiom was held in his tracks. Another beam made him go a step backwards.

  "Hey, mister Hero? Something wrong?" the Archmage taunted him.

  "I'll cut your head off, you wretched seed of destruction!" Arthaxiom shouted and charged. The Archmage yawned ostensibly. Some invisible force crashed against the paladin and hurled him backwards. He tried to stay on his feet, but the inertia made him sit.

  "I'm actually surprised you're still alive," the Archmage said. "Must be one of those Hero things. But time to finish this, don't you think? It's not like you're going to hurt me or something." Arthaxiom got up. "Oh please, just give up and die, will you?"

  ***

  The donkey was unable to stop on its own. Soldiers were too busy watching the scenes happening inside to take notice of some panicked screams coming from behind. Otto the peasant saw what was going to happen, so he jumped off the cart. Saalteinamariva also saw what was going to happen, but she didn't consider jumping off an option. There was another way.

  The cart and the donkey crashed into the crowd of soldiers. There was a lot of blood, screaming and cursing. And the cart exploded. The sorceress was thrown in the air. She sailed above the crowd gracefully as a cat launched from a catapult. Flailing and screaming.

  She landed in the courtyard, just where all the fun was. It actually was more like a semi-controlled crash, but she managed not to harm herself any more than she was already. She magicked some more fire into her broken leg so that she could stand upright, at least for a moment. Her sudden meteoric arrival made the two combatants postpone the hostilities for a moment.

 
"More distractions... Didn't I already kill you?" the Archmage asked pleasantly.

  "I got better," the sorceress replied. She tried to sense her surroundings. There was the Archmage, obviously. A lot of mages in the Tower, also obviously. Out of sight, but she felt them watching. This armoured man here, he felt strange. Was this that Hero that Roseduck was talking about? Had to be. But there was something else... where was it exactly...?

  "So what do I owe the pleasure? Do you think you can defeat me this time?" he mocked.

  "Yes," she replied. She strode towards the bystanders and approached Gaduria. "Give me that, will you?" she asked, as she took the surprised princess' hand and pulled off her ring before she had a chance to answer.

  "Hey! That's mine!" Gaduria shouted, but Saalteinamariva ignored her. She turned back towards the Archmage.

  "Prepare to fry." She put the ring on her finger.

  The Archmage just laughed.

  ***

  Roseduck felt very, very uncomfortable. While technically still in charge, he had no authority anymore. The troops responded to 'King Arthaxiom'. And King Arthaxiom was intent on removing the Archmage. Because he had summoned the orcs. Supposedly. No proof needed.

  The General wasn't really sure if challenging the Archmage to a duel was a good idea. He tried to explain that to the paladin, but to no avail. Furthermore, he had even more doubts about filling the courtyard with soldiers. Should the mages start an all-out battle, having all the targets in one place kind of played into their hands.

  He somewhat hoped that that Archmage would be already dead. That Vannard and Saalteinamariva had managed to kill him. But apparently they didn't, because the Archmage was alive and well. He even came out of his tower. Alone. To duel with Arthaxiom. Must be that Hero stuff again, because the Archmage wasn't supposed be stupid. Of course, they had to talk first. Roseduck already knew or guessed most of the Archmage's plan. The part about it being for the good of the people amused him a bit. Well, it would, if it was followed by some ridiculous explanation, instead of the annihilation of the Emperor.

  The duel commenced. It was looking quite bad for the paladin. Roseduck wondered if he should order the soldiers to swarm the mage, but he decided against it for the moment. The Archmage couldn't have overlooked that many. If he came out despite them, it meant that he had some sort of a plan for dealing with them if need be.

  Then there was a bang, a scream, and a somewhat dishevelled sorceress landed on the battleground. That was a surprise. Roseduck assumed that if the Archmage was alive, she had to be dead. She seemed somewhat... distracted. He watched in surprise as she approached them, as she took the ring...

  Roseduck realised that another duel would commence in just a second. A purely magical one. Being in the vicinity of one would be inadvisable. And the entire army was in the vicinity. "Run!" he shouted. Nobody did. They simply couldn't hear him, there was too much noise. He elbowed Oxrabbit. "Tell them to run away!"

  The Baron noticed that the General was rather agitated about this. He didn't argue. "RUN AWAY!!!"

  ***

  The distressed donkey ran out first. Soldiers were right behind it. They didn't argue with the order. If Baron Oxrabbit wanted to run, they wanted to run too. Oxrabbit was not someone one would expect to run away. So he probably had a good reason. No sense in waiting to see what it was exactly.

  There was a lot of shouting, trampling and screaming, but given the circumstances the retreat was quite orderly. A few trampled to death, but not as many as one could expect. Roseduck stopped at the gate. He reckoned he would be reasonably safe there and he wanted to see the fight. He was joined by a few others. Oxrabbit, who didn't want to completely run away. The Marquis, who didn't care about his own safety that much. Alexander, who didn't want to abandon the paladin. Gaduria, who didn't feel like running any further.

  ***

  Arthaxiom the paladin was in trouble. It was difficult fighting someone he couldn't reach. His usual approach consisted of using his sword to hit the opponent. Repeatedly. Until he dropped dead. Inability to hit the Archmage basically prevented any dropping dead on his part. It was worrying.

  Something else dropped instead. A woman in red. Very strange. Women shouldn't fall from the sky like that. And they shouldn't get up that quickly afterwards. Apparently she was acquainted with the Archmage and not on the best terms with him. He didn't think about it much. The duel was a more pressing concern. The pause was nice, but the fight was only delayed a bit. He tried to think what to do when it starts again, but he couldn't come up with anything else than charging and sword-waving once again.

  "RUN AWAY!!!"

  "Heroes don't run!" was Arthaxiom's first reaction. He heard Oxrabbit shout, he witnessed the stampede. And he remembered what the fish had told him. Sometimes running away is a good idea. Maybe it was right. Especially that everyone else seemed to be doing that. And that he was unable to hurt the Archmage anyway.

  Of course, he didn't plainly run away. He commenced a tactical retreat while Heroically protecting the rear. That's what Heroes do.

  "So, what do we have here?" the Archmage asked. "You miraculously survived and now you return just in time for the big fight, eh?"

  "Indeed," Saalteinamariva replied calmly.

  "And you get some sort of... a magical artefact? From a random bystander? One that I didn't sense?"

  "You didn't?" She had wondered about that too. There was a powerful ring right under the Archmage's nose and he hadn't snatched it? There could be only one reason for that. Well, actually there could be quite a few reasons, but she chose the one that would be most annoying for him. "Female only." She smiled nastily. She felt the ring's power. Soon the Archmage would turn into a pile of ashes. She savoured the moment and let the Archmage gloat one last time.

  "Yes, yes, surely female only. Everything at the right place and at the right time to save mister Hero's backside, eh? Don't you think it's a bit silly?"

  "It's Heroic!" Arthaxiom shouted from distance.

  "I just said that, didn't I? Silly."

  "I'll fry you silly!"

  Fire erupted from the sorceress' hands. It engulfed the Archmage. Well, the area around the Archmage. There was some space between him and the roaring flames. He was smiling condescendingly. "This is all you have?" he asked, not loudly, but somehow he was heard perfectly despite the storm of fire. He waved his hand. The flames died out, and he was standing unharmed in the middle of the scorched courtyard.

  "Oh dear oh dear, it appears that your new toy didn't help your spells at all," the Archmage mocked her. "How sad. Or maybe it's just part of the drama? So, what miracle will happen next? More cavalry to save the day? A rain of some unlikely creatures? Or maybe I'll simply explode, eh?"

  "Let's see." Saalteinamariva pointed the ring at him. He simply exploded.

  "That was anticlimactic," the Marquis remarked. A smouldering wizard's hat fell on his head. "On the other hand, quite impressive."

  "You don't say?" the Baron said. A pelvis hit his helmet with a clang.

  The gates to the Tower of Mages opened. A rather upset mage emerged. "You killed the Archmage!" he shouted.

  "You bastards!" another mage exclaimed. More of them ran out. Twenty, thirty, forty...

  "Die." The sorceress pointed the ring at the lead mage. Nothing happened. "Damn. One use only? This skunks."

  The mage smiled. "You die."

  ***

  Most people would react sensibly when faced with a few dozens of hostile mages. They would run away. Arthaxiom the paladin wasn't most people. He ran towards them.

  "For the glory of the Rainbow Sturgeon, CHAAARGE!!!"

  The mages hesitated. In addition to the sorceress who had just exploded their Archmage, they were now faced with an armoured, sword-waving madman. Their recent experiences with sword-waving madmen weren't too encouraging.

  "Recall the troops!" Roseduck shouted. He wasn't too sure about that, but having their new king magicked into little pieces would be def
initely bad.

  "TURN BACK!!!" Oxrabbit roared after the fleeing soldiers. Some of them listened, but they were quite far away already. The Baron didn't wait for them. He ran after Arthaxiom. He had always wanted to punch a wizard.

  "Blast them! Aaaagh!" the mage screamed, because a corpse fell on him.

  ***

  Vannard fell into the vortex. Swirling colours engulfed him. He was still falling. He thought so, at least. Not sure which way. His companion was still screaming, which somewhat annoyed him, so he stabbed him. It worked. As usual.

  So now he was falling with a dead mage. How fun. And falling wasn't really falling. More like... floating. Because there was nowhere to fall from and nowhere to fall to.

  Red swirls around him slowly turned into purple. How interesting. Not knowing where he was and where, if anywhere, he was floating to, annoyed him a bit. Getting bored annoyed him a lot more. With nothing better to do he floated towards the deceased mage and rummaged through his pockets. A piece of string, an amusingly shaped piece of candy, a talisman shaped like a two-headed weasel. Nothing interesting. He stole the talisman anyway, because, well, why not? Meanwhile the swirls turned blue. How quaint.

  He stabbed the dead mage a few more times. Nothing better to do really. He tried to sing. He wasn't a singing person, but he still had nothing better to do. Unfortunately, the inside of this vortex didn't have good acoustics. He tried juggling knives, but they didn't fly. They floated. He gathered them back. The swirls turned yellow.

  Well, wouldn't it be amusing if he starved to death here? He tried to amuse himself with that thought, but it wasn't really that funny. He'd eat the mage first anyway. Then he realised that he wouldn't, because in fact he would die of thirst first. Now that was amusing.

  The swirls turned orange. Vannard had no idea how much time passed since he fell into the vortex. Couldn't be too long. He didn't get hungry yet, nor thirsty. Nor he needed to use the potty. That last one could get messy. Unless one didn't need to do that in this place. He hoped it was the case. The alternatives weren't amusing.